#ancientgoddess

Exploring the Majestic Venus of Willendorf: A Paleolithic Masterpiece

The Venus of Willendorf, considered the most illustrious among the Paleolithic Venuses, is a statuette carved from oolitic limestone and adorned with red ochre paintings, standing at a height of 11 cm. Dated between 24,000 and 22,000 B.C., this iconic work of art is not native to the region where it was discovered but now reigns supreme in the Naturhistorisches Museum in Vienna.

Chronicle of an Extraordinary Discovery

In 1908, archaeologist Josef Szombathy discovered the Venus of Willendorf at an archaeological site near Willendorf in der Wachau, along the left bank of the Danube in Austria. The Paleolithic site underwent careful examination around 1990, allowing a reevaluation of previous estimates regarding the artwork's dating. Stratigraphic analysis indicated that the statuette was created between 25,000 and 26,000 years ago, a significant correction from earlier estimates that erroneously placed it between 10,000 B.C. and 32,000 B.C.

Sculptural Anatomy: Details and Vibrant Colors

The Venus of Willendorf, representing a nude female figure, rests her arms on her breasts. The most distinctive features are the rounded and ample forms, while facial features are deliberately left uncarved. The spherical head is covered with a hairstyle interpreted as a headdress of shells or a coiffure, perhaps reminiscent of the curly and frizzy hair typical of the African population.

The reddish clay surface, combined with the yellowish and porous limestone, creates a play of light and shadow that highlights the roughness of the surface. The underlying shadow emphasizes the abundant shapes of the figure, creating a suggestive chiaroscuro effect.

Symbolic Meaning: Fertility and Mother Earth Worship

The Venus of Willendorf, the precursor of prehistoric Venuses, is steeped in symbolism. These statuettes, usually ranging from 3 to 15 cm, often feature elongated legs and heads, perhaps suggesting the practice of embedding them in fields or among cave rocks, according to the customs of the time.

Accentuated sexual traits, such as monumental breasts, a prominent belly, and ample buttocks, are interpreted as symbols of fertility. The Venus of Willendorf, with its pronounced forms and attention to detail in sculpture, connects to the worship of Mother Earth and her ability to foster prosperity.

New Diosa Chingona!

Notte o Nyx (in greco antico: Nύξ, Nýx, "notte") è una delle divinità primordiali della mitologia greca[1][2].

Secondo la Teogonia di Esiodo, Notte era figlia di Caos, mentre nella cosmogonia orfica era figlia di Phanes[1][2]; nelle Fabulae, Igino la dice figlia di Caos e di Caligine[3]. Sempre secondo Esiodo, Notte era la personificazione della notte terrestre, in contrapposizione al fratello Erebo, che rappresentava la notte del mondo infernale. Era inoltre contrapposta ai suoi figli Etere (la luce) ed Emera (il giorno).

Notte era una delle divinità più antiche, e dimorava nel cielo; secondo Omero, anche Zeus ne aveva paura.

Alright, settle in, because I have a tale for you, one that’s older than chocolate bunnies and sunrise services. It whispers of a goddess, the changing seasons, and the hidden magic in those springtime symbols we all know so well. This isn’t just about Easter, you see; this is the story of how spring itself got a name. Picture this: not the world we know, but one much older. A land of sun-baked…

Alright, settle in because I have a tale for you, one that's older than chocolate bunnies and sunrise services. It whispers of a goddess, the changing seasons, and the hidden magic in those springtime symbols we all know so well. This isn't just about Easter. You see; this is the story of how spring itself got a name.

Picture this: not the world we know, but one much older. A land of sun-baked bricks and whispering rivers – Mesopotamia, the cradle of stories. Here, among the farmers and the priests, the bakers and the poets, walked a goddess. Her name was Ishtar.

Now, Ishtar was…complicated. Imagine a woman dressed as a warrior, but with eyes that could melt the hardest heart. She was the protectress of cities, the roar in the battle cry, yet also the goddess of love and – this is important – the change from winter's bleakness to spring's vibrant green.

Every year, the tale goes, Ishtar would do something brave and frankly a bit terrifying. She would descend into the Underworld, the land of shadows and stillness. Think of it like winter itself, that time when the world seems to go to sleep.

Why would she go down there? Well, there are different versions of the story. Some say it was to rescue her love, the shepherd-god Tammuz. Others say she faced her dark sister, Ereshkigal, ruler of the Underworld, in a contest of power. Whatever the reason, Ishtar always, eventually, fought her way back up.

Imagine the land while she was gone. No goddess of springtime meant the fields lay barren, the lambs shivering, the world holding its breath. That's the chill, silent heart of winter, isn't it?

But Ishtar was nothing if not tenacious. After her hard trek through the land of the dead, she would burst back into the world of the living – and that's when the party started! Her return meant warmth, flowers blooming, the birds finding their songs again. It was the rebirth of the world.

Naturally, the people of Mesopotamia threw one heck of a festival for her. Music, dancing, a feast that likely put our Thanksgiving dinners to shame – all in celebration of that shift from winter to spring. And since ancient people were clever at using symbols, they chose a few special ones for Ishtar.

Eggs, those perfectly shaped promises of new life, became her symbol. Rabbits, those frisky little creatures always popping up in springtime, they represented her energy too. See how that starts looking familiar, even with our current Easter celebrations?

Now, here's where history gets tangled like yarn. As cultures changed, as new stories and religions sprang up like wildflowers, the meaning of Ishtar's story changed too.

Some linked her to the idea of fertility, to new beginnings in nature. Others wove her into their own celebrations of springtime, which happened around the same time anyway. Heck, even the name "Easter" may have roots in an old Germanic goddess of spring, Eostre.

Then you have Christianity coming along, with its own powerful springtime story of death and resurrection. That, perhaps more than anything, began layering new meaning onto the ancient festivals.

Here's the thing, though: stories are slippery, powerful things. They don't disappear, they change shape. You can still catch glimpses of the strong, brave Ishtar in our modern Easter.

The eggs aren't just cute decorations, they're echoes of that ancient symbol of life triumphing. The bunnies with their boundless energy? They remind us of the world waking up from its winter sleep, just as Ishtar once brought the land back to life. Even the focus on rebirth, seen in the Christian story of Easter, has that same heart to it – the promise that darkness is never the end.

The thing about old tales is that it's not about which one is 'true'. The story of Ishtar may not be literally true, but that doesn't lessen its power. It's a way people long ago understood the world – how winter always, stubbornly, gives way to life again. It's a celebration, and a reassurance.

So the next time you bite into a chocolate egg, or spot a rabbit hopping across the lawn, remember Ishtar. Remember that beneath the modern traditions lies a story thousands of years old, a tale about the fierce, unending magic of spring.

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Tea

Art process here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CyUeTwYpcJl/?img_index=1 When I remembered that I forgot to draw Tea and Trinity, I think I drew them back to back or the dates were close together? It's been a minute since I've finished these pieces so I don't entirely remember. Crea and Tea were born around the same time, and the two of them constantly clash. I also recall that when I was making them for a sculpture class project, I wanted them to have opposing color schemes. I think Crea's palette is stronger due to how I balanced her colors compared to Tea though. Out of these three pieces, Tea's stare seems to be the most unwavering and intense. It may relate to the color I picked for her sclera. Tea- Me (@circifox)