Hawk 🪽 omens & gods guy

@omenhawk.bsky.social

1141 Followers 223 Following

🐎 Apollo's student in all things 🧎‍➡️ polytheist priest🧎🏼 🧎‍➡️ bird of pray 🦅 ✨ pro astrologer 🌲 🗣️ god is talking and you can listen Hawkstrology.com/blog/omen-walk 🏕️ co-conspirator of North Star campout (pnw) https://northstarcampout.org he / they / ❤️‍🔥

FOREWORD There's something to be said for scholarly objectivity. A scholar who cannot remain objective has a tendency to see what isn't there, to project and distort. But there's also something to be said for subjectivity, for examining something from within. Such subjectivity allows a deeper grasp than objective observation. To speak objectively of Bacchic euphoria misses the entire point of the experience, and is nothing like speaking of such frenzy after feeling the presence of Dionysos. I am not an objective scholar in regard to these hymns. For one thing, I have a weird love for the ancient Greek language, and it's hard not to take a certain personal glee in feeling a sentence fall into place. But more importantly, I believe in the gods who are the subjects of these hymns. The exact manner in which I believe in them changes from day to day and moment to moment. Sometimes they are abstract laws with a consciousness of their own existence, not much more personal than gravity. Sometimes they are psychological functions-metaphors and stories that give a life a mythographic shape. And other times they are individuals, as real and singular as anyone I pass in the street: Pan pressing his hooves in the loam; Artemis stalking with her silver bow between the trees; Poseidon in the deep, wreathed in kelp, sporting with dolphins; and always, of course, Zeus on high, stepping from the mountain tops to strike the earth with his bolts. I suspect the gods are all those things and more, just as I myself m many different people and many different kinds of people. And my It sense of these hymns, having lived with them for a while now, is it Orpheus had a similar multifarious view of the gods.
Haggard rays of light illuminate a hovering white plastic food delivery bag - it glows as I hold it aloft, cropped at the mid forearm. Tattoos peek out in the doorframe, as does the sun talisman on my finger, also lit up by the sun. . The all caps, red THANK YOU is shadowed in contrast.
Notes app screenshot January 16, 2024 at 3:03 PM Title: Stealing Body text: Pet crimes. Creating opportunities for pets to have heists.
- Vis my previous note about how sorrow has fueled a lot of art for me, I had that thought again reading my lyrics, kinda, cuz they were all so full of like longing and sadness and the hurt at the temporary nature of everything. I’m so proud of me for turning to spirituality to process some of that despair. I’m proud of me for going inward. I’m proud of me for becoming someone who’s worked so hard at those things that I can help others now. I’m proud of me for still going on that journey.
- Broke a string and found two old songs, some of the first I’d ever written from when I was still living at Spring Garden, shoved in my guitar case under my guitar strings. Played them both, remembered them, remembered writing them. I reflected on how far I’ve come as a songwriter, reveled, for a moment, in the fact that young me who wrote that song must have heard it with palm muting, and me now has that skill (as of last year, I really nailed palm muting). Thought about how thoroughly I scratched out the lines I took out. How different is my creative process, that now I don’t think about someone coming behind me to mock me. How wonderful that I’ve laid that voice to rest. Somewhat, mostly. How soothing to see a physical manifestation of how far I’ve come- I don’t scratch things out so dark anymore. I scratched lines out like I was afraid someone might come along and see them, after. I remember that about journaling- I was afraid of what future me would thing. Now that I am future me I think I was really fucking cute. I love everything that I’ve ever written, I love coming across these little archives of my past selves. And when I think they’re dumb, I just am like, well I tried lol, cringe for a second, and move on, thinking about how cute I was for being so cringe, lol.