How it feels everyone calling your culture Mycenaean face drawings/Mycenaean tattoos, without even acknowledging us: -_-
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How it feels everyone calling your culture Mycenaean face drawings/Mycenaean tattoos, without even acknowledging us: -_-

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Kol in the privacy of the forest, enjoying his rituals with all his familiars: giant shadow dog Zalmos, his cats Tim and Dim, and the astral serpents ✨🐍✨ __________________________________ ➡️ Kol is an original character of mine, a Thracian (with 50% Elamite paternal genetics). Dark magician, healer 🌿, and warrior. ➡️He belongs to my comics “Golden Brown” and “Kol my name” (MAY 2026)
Red-Figure Hydria with Thracian Women at a Well. Greek, made in Athens, attributed to the Aegisthus Painter, 465-460 BC Terracotta, Musée du Louvre, Département des antiquités grecques, étrusques et romaines.
Three young women fetching water from a fountain decorate the body of this Athenian red-figure hydria. The woman at right fills her hydria, while the woman in the center carries her jug on her head and looks back over her shoulder. The figure at left rests her hydria on a square block. All three women have short, cropped hair and wear simple, loose-fitting chitons, indicating they are slaves. Their tattoos identify them as Thracians. The tattoos on their arms are in the pattern of a line running from wrist to shoulder with a long row of shorter, perpendicular strokes. The woman in the center lifts the hem of her garment to reveal tattoos on her leg, and both she and her companion on the right have tattoos on their necks as well. Thracian domestic slaves carrying water from public fountains would have been a common sight in Athens in the fifth century BC, and contemporary vase painters often noted the contrast between Athenian women and their servants. Athenians were well aware of the tattoos worn by Thracian women, but they had various views of the significance of the markings. Herodotus claimed that in Thrace tattoos were signs of noble birth, but later sources regarded tattoos as marks of punishment, worn by criminals or, as Plutarch fancifully relates, reminders of the cruelty of the Thracian women who murdered Orpheus.
-Jeffrey Spier in Ancient Thrace and the Classical World: Treasures from Bulgaria, Romania, and Greece
Close up of the friendly stalking maenads (from the whole comic page I posted yesterday).
Maybe you'd like to enjoy the details better.
Some friendly maenads stalking Orpheus 🪨🍂

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Today is my birthday 🎉 and I want to celebrate it so here it is this drawing of Kol, him, simply, staring at the depths of your soul 🔥
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➡️ Kol is an original character of mine, a Thracian (with 50% Elamite paternal genetics). Dark sorcerer, healer 🌿 and warrior.
➡️He belongs to my comics “Golden Brown” and “Kol, my name” (⭐MAY 2026⭐)
Kol and his giant familiar shadow dog, Zalmos.
Together with the everlasting astral serpents. His true self, a powerful sorcerer, in life and beyond death. 🌿🔥🖤🤍❤️🐍 __________________________________ ➡️ Kol is an original character of mine, a Thracian (with 50% Elamite paternal genetics). Dark magician, healer 🌿 and warrior. ➡️He belongs to my comics “Golden Brown” and “Kol my name” (APRIL 2026)
Public Memory · Gate at the End · Song · 2016
My dearest Orpheus ❤️🔥 and some verses I wrote (I don't dare call it a "poem"😅).
(This is the English translation):
One night I entered
the gloomy black cave,
the one hidden
in the depths of the Soul.
I did so without fear, for there I recognized
oblivion in its purest form.
I saw it written on its walls,
marked on each of its stones.
That cave, like flesh,
embraced ancient bones.
And the sad dead voices
whispered lost memories.
I followed the river, deep crimson,
flowing sorrowfully, sobbing without tears,
for I knew of its inevitable end,
when it meets Immensity.
And I understood, heart in hand,
that we are all one river,
that feels eternal fear
when it contemplates the color of the abyss.
I thought I found all the answers,
deluded, in a single journey.
When all I could accept
was that I was wrong.
I awoke with wide eyes,
I felt the New Light bathing my entire being.
My Soul had dawned pale white,
but the Mysteries remained infinite.
And so, they will remain.
And that was Death for me, once again.