Monday, January 4, 2010

Happy Moonday!

0 Lady Moon, your horns point toward the east;
     Shine, be increased:
0 Lady Moon, your horns point toward the west;
     Wane, be at rest.

From Sing-Song by Christina Rossetti

Here's an interesting bit of info in case you didn't know:
"The Helinistic seven-day week was essentially astrological, linked to the stars, an amalgam of astronomy, astrology, and math of the great scientific cultures of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Greece.  The days of the week were associated with those (seven) heavenly bodies that could be seen with the naked eye: the sun, the moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn.... the English weekdays come from the Anglo-Saxon translations of the planets as well as the god/goddess in whose honor they were dedicated." ~from Celestially Auspicious Occasions: Seasons, Cycles, and Celebrations by Donna Henes. (A fantastic book)

So what day does the moon, that most feminine of heavenly bodies, associated with Isis, Artemis, Oshun, with art, women, wildness, and mystery get?  The moon gets Monday, a day known in the modern world for its drudgery after the fun of the weekend.  Even though I work for myself, and could theoretically make Monday mean anything I want, I often get pulled along by the 'get to work!' vibe, doing my banking, going to the post office, and don't find myself honoring the moon much on manic Monday. 

I want this to change.  I wonder what a little conscious, weekly honoring of the moon will do for me.  I think it may do great things.  I'm excited to experiment.  So to help me in this venture, for the foreseeable future I'll be posting bits of art, poetry, and stories of wildness here on Mondays, and invite everyone to share any art/craft/ or bit of wildness here in the comments-- post a whole poem,  or link to your site with artwork of any and all kinds.  I vow to make art for art's sake on Monday-- write a poem, make a collage, dance, sing, and/or to get out in nature and howl at the moon a bit.  Hope you'll join me.


anita teresa said...

a poem fer ye:

The Birth of Color

I am become the silent
Brooding Hen
over the universe,
her colors
inside a realm
before light,

giving off an
imploded heat,
a warmth
not yet
felt or perceived
by any entity
outside Herself

The vast uncontained
silence of Her swollen being
with every facet of existence,

concealing a wealth
to the worlds She will birth
into existence

Her great Body
is still.

She broods,
immense shivering
that egresses
and yearns all
into expression,

and with a
voluptuous inward thrust,

she mounts the sky,
and rises upward
into uncountable

Kate Temple-West said...

Anita, this gives me chills and makes me feel as sparkly as new fallen snow under lamp light. I am sure the moon would be very pleased. Thanks for kicking off this moon space with such beauty!

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Anonymous said...

let me point to "Women's Mysteries" by Elizabeth Harding ...written by