To my firstborn, my daughter Alexia, I gave her the dreams I dreamed
To my second born, my son Adam, I gave him directions on how to dream
To my third born, my son Luke, I gave him a white canvas and a brush





Pythia, would fulfill certain rituals before she initiated herself into her spiritual role of prophetess: bathe, purify in the Castalian waters; dress in ceremonial robes; sit upon a tripod in the temple; inhale vapors arising from a chasm; fall into a state of trance; channel Apollo’s words. This is how I write. Of the rituals and potions; clouded memories and ecstatic states; unintelligible utterings, riddles and rhymes; of the momentary madness; alas, knowledge and wisdom arise.
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Pythia3
at
11:52 AM
Labels: Birthdays, Motherhood, On Family
I count the grains of sand on the beach and measure the sea.
I understand the speech of the mute and I hear the voiceless.
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One of the holiest sites of ancient
A most sacred and holy spot devoted to Gaea, the Earth Mother;
Of the many prophesies, advice, warnings and words of wisdom received from the Oracle; the most familiar, valuable and significant of these is: Know ThySelf.
In these words live truth, freedom, peace and understanding.
3 comments:
Wow -- happy birthday! Great names with Alexia and Adam. Luke looks almost identical to my buddy Jim from the 1970s. And Bob Marley, not less.
They must be very proud to enjoy you as a Mom. Sweet! (And sexy, if that's not too inappropriate ;)
Haha -- let me clarify -- YOU look sexy, Ms. Pythia3 ;)
Hey Lindy,
My God, Luke is a gorgeous boy! I can't believe he's eighteen! Time goes way too fast -- hope he had a great birthday!
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