#dionysian

[nyxshadowhawk]

I wrote this a few years ago. Kala Anthesteria!

Anthesteria

You have come to see the divine procession.

Last thing you knew, you were standing in CVS to buy flowers and chocolates for your sweetheart, but then you stepped outside and saw the procession in all its glory, and remembered that this is what you’re really supposed to be doing. So now you are running towards the parade, running as though you might miss it if you don’t get there fast enough. You take the head off one of the roses and strew its petals on the ground, singing.

You’ve been feeling listless lately, and the arrival of the Mad God is something to look forward to. It is a spectacle. He’s brought through the city streets on a ship that rolls along the ground like a carriage, and he is accompanied by a train of masked revelers: women with sticks and loose dresses, men with ugly masks and dragging leather phalloi between their legs. Leaves and flowers, bright torches, the clash of cymbals and wail of flutes. The screaming has already started.

You have not seen the god before. You do not know what he looks like, but you thought you saw a mask that was intended to be his face. You remember it had a crown of vines, and bovine horns, and a manic expression. You ask the person next to you, “Why is the god mad?” and they turn their head much too slowly. They wear a theatrical satyr mask, with curling horns, and a too-wide mouth that looks like a gaping hole that is laughing at you.

“Don’t you know?

“No.”

“Oh. Well, why do you think, then?”

You have not considered this question before. It has something to do with wine, you think, but that can’t be all there is to it. You decide that the god is mad because he wants to be; he’s a god, he can be whatever he wants. So if he didn’t want to be mad, he wouldn’t be.

The boat-carriage is drawn by magnificent leopards with golden pelts. You pet one as it passes, running your hand through its silken fur, and it licks your wrist.

The procession passes, and behind it, in the negative space where it just was, is a swamp.  The swamp is swollen with meltwater. There are half-buried jars of wine in the mud, left open. The whole world is open today, so the dead are here. The god brought them up with him, and they come in their own pale procession, silent. They are thirsty. They are attracted by the blood of the living. You don’t have any blood to give them, so they swarm like insects around the open wine jars half-buried in the swampy ground. They are here not as a menace, but as friends and guests, which is why they get the first of the wine.

You beckon a lost soul towards the jar nearest to you, and it comes like a shy cat to a bowl of milk. “Who did you used to be?” you ask it. It looks up at you with hollow eyes, and does not answer.

You return to the center of the city, and find that the revel is in full swing. You push through the red silk, the incense smoke, the mass of masked faces and writhing bodies. Your ears echo with the cacophony of obscene screams. The architecture of the city is strange, off somehow, though you can’t place it. These buildings look ancient, but not derelict — their ivy-twined columns are still standing, and their walls burnished white.

You don’t know where you’re going, but you arrive at a small perfumed tent draped in red, where someone is dancing in a dim spotlight. It is a young man, dressed like a harem girl in sheer purple scarves, with ribbons and flowers in his hair. His dark hair swirls around him like the smoke, and in a blur of arms he swaps out the masks in front of his face — a comic rictus, an evil grimace, a horned beast, a beautiful woman. Bells tinkle on his ankles as he dances to the eerie flute music. You sit down on a plush purple couch and watch him, mesmerized. Someone throws coins at his feet. He ignores them.

He playfully throws one of his scarves at you, and it lands on your head, draping over your face. Through its translucent fabric, he seems distorted, uncanny. He beckons you to dance with him. Some distant voice in your head tells you that you should not take it, that you will make a mockery of all decency if you dance like that. But the voice is not very powerful, not in comparison to the glint of his leaf-colored eyes. So you step up onto the raised platform. You try to match his slow, sensuous movements, but you can’t make your hips do that serpentine thing that he does. Laughing, he takes your hands in his, and lifts a ceramic cup to your lips. You don’t remember seeing him receive a drink, but now there is a cup pressing your lips apart. You take a sip of whatever’s in the cup — it’s a rich, sweet wine. It almost tastes like honey, and you greedily take a larger gulp of before he pulls the cup away.

Maybe it’s the smoke, or maybe it’s something in the wine, but you are starting to hallucinate. The man has horns. You are certain they aren’t connected to his mask; no, they are thick, curving bovine horns that stretch like branches from the wreath of leaves on his head. Was there an ivy wreath on his head before? You can’t remember.

Dizzy and intoxicated, you lie down on the nearest couch, sinking into red and purple silk. Your brain is starting to blink like fireflies. You grope up at the young man’s mask, like a cat batting at a ball of yarn, and pull it off. The horns do not come away with it. The man has a very pretty, androgynous face, framed by his dark curls that hang down like vines as he leans over you. His cheeks are flushed. “Hi,” he says cheerfully. “I hope you’re having fun.”

“Fun…” you mumble.

“You’ve been so stressed and anxious lately. Life getting to you? I thought you should take a load off. You deserve it.” He smiles a golden-honey grin. “Please don’t ask why. You always ask why.”

“Who are you?” you ask.

But you know. You know. Beneath his eyes is swirling, primordial blackness. It calls to you, tugs at you, entices you to dive headfirst into the abyss.

“I can’t stay long,” he whispers. “I’m getting married tonight.”

“Oh… congrats. To whom?”

“To the queen!” He giggles coquettishly. “She’s waiting for me. But I’ve still got time to play…”

You miss the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now, except for his presence, which is considerably bigger than his body. It’s like he’s glowing with a warm and seductive radiance that fills the whole tent, that both envelops and penetrates you.

His lips taste like ripe grapes.

You wonder, briefly, if this is what the queen will experience when he comes to her in her ritual chamber for their secret and sacred marriage. You wonder if maybe this is the ritual chamber. You are dimly aware that the tent is now empty except for you and him, but you can still hear the screams and laughter and music tangling together just outside the tent.

“Life can be delicious you know.” He takes a swig from the same cup as before and smirks at you. “It doesn’t have to be hard. It doesn’t have to be painful. It can be all bright colors and heady scents and fine tastes. Voluptuous.”

That’s crazy, you want to say. Of course life is hard. You’d have to be mad to believe otherwise. But you don’t say that. Instead, you start laughing, laughing until your sides split and your face splits. The laughter doesn’t really sound like your own. This can’t be your voice, can it? But still, you feel the rush of catharsis. Whoever told you that life was about suffering? All you’ve ever wanted was to laugh in their face.

This is the real Secret, you think. Not that ‘law of attraction’ bullshit. THIS. Milk and honey, wine and blood. Something older, older, older than human footsteps. This is why there are gods. Gods are what you see when you pull back the curtain. Are the Mysteries all this obvious? Seized with sudden mania, you start dancing again, and your ecstatic screams rise to join the rest. You don’t remember your own name or who you were before you got here, or what your real face looks like. Maybe this is your real face.

You are surrounded by people now, though you don’t remember leaving the tent. Their torches sting your eyes. Burning, burning, burning. They bare bright smiles, genuinely joyful, but with sharp and bloody teeth. They have snakes entwined in their hair and draped over their shoulders like scarves. Some have the faces of satyrs, bulls, goats, cats, foxes, bears, owls, moths, dragonflies, bees, kings… Some are alive and some are dead, but you can’t quite tell the ghosts from the living. They surround you in a great ring, joining hands, singing that strange and wild song that you’ve been half-hearing all night. Flowers spring up on the flagstones wherever you step. That bright, blooming energy that you felt before rises within your own chest. It’s in you now, the god is swelling inside you now. You no longer fit in your own skin. You flail, you thrash, you stamp your feet, you keep screaming: “EUOI! EUOI! IO DIONYSOS!”

Sweet is the pleasure the god brings us in the mountains. when from the running revelers he falls to the ground clad in his sacred fawnskin. Hunting the blood of slaughtered goats for the joy of devouring raw flesh […] Hail to the Roaring God, Bromios our leader! Euoi! The ground flows with milk, Flows with wine, Flows with the nectar of bees. –Euripides, Bacchae.

You are sitting on a swing, your legs pumping you back and forth. You don’t remember why. Something about the god having cursed the city’s women to hang themselves as punishment for having killed his worshippers, unless they swung in atonement and remembrance. But you know that can’t be the real reason — swinging is no punishment, not like this. It’s fun. Your heart swells as the swing arcs towards the sky. You feel like you could lift right off of it and go soaring through the heavens, towards the rising sun, with no wax wings to bring you down. Something about the swing feels so freeing, even if you are locked in place, not moving anywhere. Back and forth, back and forth… it’s lulling, like a song that was sung to you once in your distant childhood, or a dream you once had. When you get off, unsteady on your feet, you feel a burden has been lifted. 

Now the time has come. Now the flowers are here.

[dionysianivy]

𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

What is Anthesteria?

Anthesteria, celebrated from the 11th to the 13th of Anthesterion (February–March), was one of the biggest festivals dedicated to Dionysus. Known as the Festival of Flowers, it marked the arrival of spring, the opening of the new wine casks, and the renewal of life. But it wasn’t just about feasting and drinking, it was also a time of purification, fertility, and remembrance, when the boundary between the living and the dead grew thin.

At the heart of the festival was the ritual opening of the wine casks that had been fermenting since the last harvest. This wasn’t just practical; it was symbolic. The wine had been maturing underground, just like Dionysus himself had once been carried in Zeus' thigh before being "born again." Bringing the wine to the surface was more than just a tradition,it was a reflection of Dionysus’ own myth.

But Anthesteria wasn’t all joy and celebration. It was believed that during these days, spirits wandered freely, so while people enjoyed the festivities, they also took precautions to protect themselves. The festival was a strange mix of life and death, revelry and ritual, perfectly embodying the nature of Dionysus, a God of both wild celebration and deep mystery. During Anthesteria, it was also said that the maenads celebrated privately in the mountains and forests. In some legends, Dionysus' marriage to Ariadne was held during Anthesteria.

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Days of Anthesteria

Day 1: Pithoigia (Jar-Opening) 🌸

The first day of Anthesteria, Pithoigia, was centered around the ritual opening of the pithoi, large clay jars that contained the previous year’s wine. These casks had spent months underground, and now, they were unearthed and brought to the sanctuary of Dionysus. A portion of the wine was poured out as an offering, and the rest was shared by all members of the household.

The day was filled with flowers, marking the beginning of the season. Everyone over the age of three was invited to participate in the first taste of the new wine, and the mood was communal and joyous.

Day 2: Choës (Pitchers) 🏺

The second day of the festival, Choës, was a time of popular merrymaking, characterized by wine-drinking contests in which even slaves and children participated. People dressed in their finest clothes, with some even embodying figures from myth connected to Dionysus. There were visits to friends and drinking contests, where participants had to drink an entire chous (about 3 liters) in complete silence. This day was open to everyone, even slaves, highlighting how Dionysus transcended the boundaries of class and status.

For children, Choës marked a special rite of passage. Boys reaching their second year were crowned with flowers and given small drinking vessels, symbolizing their gradual initiation into the community. Meanwhile, the devoted followers of Dionysus, his maenads and priestesses, took part in private, sacred rituals that marked the spiritual union between them and the god.

Day 3: Chytroi (Pots) 💀

The final day, Chytroi, was dedicated to the spirits of the dead. Pots filled with a sacred mix of seeds and grains, called panspermia, were offered to Hermes Chthonios and the wandering souls of the deceased. During this time, it was believed that the spirits of the underworld walked among the living. To protect against any malevolent spirits, people chewed on hawthorn leaves and smeared their doorways with tar. The festival came to a close with the dismissal of the spirits: "Away with you, Keres, it is no longer Anthesteria!"

With these words, the spirits were sent back to the underworld, and life in Athens returned to normal, marking the end of the brief but intense period when the living and the dead had shared the same space.

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Activities To Do:

🍷 Drink wine, or any liquid that you like.

🍷 Place flowers on your altar.

🍷 Honor God Dionysus.

🍷 Go to pottery.

🍷 Make a special mask for Lord Dionysus.

🍷 Do a libation in nature.

🍷 Go to the theater.

🍷 Collect flowers from nature.

🍷 Read and recite the hymns to Dionysus.

🍷 Honor both life and death.

🍷 Take a walk in nature and/or in the mountains.

🍷 Draw Dionysus's symbol or carve His name in stones or wood.

🍷 Make art for Dionysus.

🍷 Make a flower crown.

🍷 Honor your deceased loved ones.

🍷 Leave offerings for spirits.

🍷 Light candles.

🍷 Plant seeds in your garden.

🍷 Plan a feast and celebrate with your loved ones.

🍷 Sing and dance while listening to your favorite songs.

🍷 Do creative activities like art or poetry.

🍷 Go wild and celebrate it as you wish, Kala Anthesteria!

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[dionysusmybeloved]

ORPHIC HYMN #46

TO DIONYSUS LIKNITES

I summon to these prayers

Dionysos Liknites,

born at Nysa, blossoming,

beloved and kindly Bacchos,

nursling of the Nymphs

and of fair-wreathed Aphrodite.

The forests once felt your feet

quiver in the dance

as frenzy drove you and the graceful Nymphs

on and on.

The counsels of Zeus brought you

to noble Persephone,

who reared you to be loved

by the deathless gods.

Kindheartedly come, O blessed one,

accept the gift of this sacrifice.

(trans. by Apostolos Athanassakis)

[crimson-deceit]

—The Bacchae—

An older art piece I did for the play The Bacchae! 💕🍇🍷

[fabledfoxglove]

ꕥ ᴅɪᴏɴʏsᴜs • ɢᴏᴅ ᴏғ ᴡɪɴᴇ, ᴠᴇɢᴇᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ғᴇʀᴛɪʟɪᴛʏ, ғᴇsᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ, ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀᴅɴᴇss, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏᴜs ᴇᴄsᴛᴀsʏ, ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ꕥ

[winedarkgod]

have a photo dump of random pictures of Dionysus I just had on my phone

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

Advice for beginner Hellenists

This isn't necessarily a post where I include a list of Gods, epithets, resources, and offerings for said Gods, but rather, hopefully soothing the worries of those of us who are starting the journey into the religion. As someone who was once in a religion that made other religions sound like something absolutely terrifying, my journey into Hellenism was once which was also... pretty terrifying, and this fear was mostly just from my own mind.

Anyways, my list of Advice:

You can literally just start praying. If you want to get more formal, you can absolutely get more formal, but you very much don't have to. I've definitely had my first prayers to some Gods be "hello, [God or Goddess's name], I want to worship You! Please lead me in my journey. Thanks!" I can promise you, the Gods are much kinder and more understanding than any of us fully know.

You can also just start worshiping in general. I feel like I've seen on occasion people worried about the Gods not "calling" to them. This is definitely not something that needs to happen pre-worship. If you find them interesting enough to pray to, then that in and of itself is enough.

In a similar vein, I wouldn't be too concerned about the idea of "signs". I feel like there's a tendency for folks to be incredibly worried about everything when first starting out - the behavior of a candle, the sighting of an animal, a strange dream, all can suddenly seem to take on jarring significance. But I can promise you, the Gods don't constantly give out signs, and frequently, these strange occurrences can be attributed to the mundane. When something comes from the Gods, you will know, trust me!

You don't have to worry too much about the idea of cleanliness, be it spiritual or physical. Khernips are cool, and I'd definitely recommend integrating them into your practice sooner or later. Hygiene is cool too! But if I'm being honest, we in the modern day are far more physically clean, and a lot less likely to regularly encounter the type of pollution that would have been encountered in ancient Greece.

The Gods will be at varying distances over the course of your worship. Sometimes, They will feel close, joyfully, burningly so. And sometimes, They will feel far, and prayers may even feel a bit futile. Both of those are perfectly okay, and neither of those will be permanent.

And, once again in a similar vein, you will likely not find yourself having constant, close mystical experiences with the Gods (i.e., conversations, visions, etc.). These experiences are rare and far between, and I would advise that you not make them a central part of your worship. They will come when the Gods deem you're ready for them, and you definitely won't be expecting it. Focus on the little things!

My final thing (for now) is that you also shouldn't put undue pressure on yourself to be doing some sort of big offering to the Gods. If that's what you can afford, that's great! But if not, fresh water, a small wildflower that you came across and picked*, or a small bit of a meal also count as a good offering!

And with that, my (much longer than I was previously planning on) list of things for beginners to keep in mind! A lot of this list is made up of things which I picked up along the way, and a lot of it is also made from my own personal hindsight being 20/20. I hope this is helpful to someone, and that it maybe soothes some of the (incredibly common) worries which so often accompany those who are venturing into the world of Hellenic polytheism!

[bugcowboyart]

Happy Trans Day of Visibility— I wanted to celebrate by putting these two together in one post!

I’m a proud trans artist and I love celebrating trans people in my art!

[nicheguides]

What to Bring to a Hedonist’s Funeral

dont be *that* guy! know your decorum when honoring the passing of a legend who dedicated their life to the pursuit of pleasure

[hellenicrisis]

I humbly petition Dionysus, God of the Bacchae.

Liminal spirit of creation, Lord of hidden things.

Bless me with your divine inspiration and endow me with your essence.

This I pray. Khaire.

[dramaticwine]

Items for Lord Dionysus’ altar

Wine

Grapes

Statues and/or images of Dionysus

Apples

Goblets

Wine glasses

Ethically sourced furs

Statues of leopards, tigers, snakes, and/or bulls

Theater masks

Play programs

Phallic imagery

Fake or real plants

Pinecones

wildflowers

Wine corks, bottles, or labels

Bottle caps

Pride flags and/or pins

Condoms

Candles

Scripts

Garnet

Ruby

Amethyst

These are all suggestions and common associations of Dionysus. If you do not have some of these or don’t feel comfortable owning some of these, that is valid. We all have different practices and how you do yours will differ from mine.

[mythixhekate]

Dionysus ✦

God of wine, fruit, pleasure, ritual madness, lgbtq+ community, fertility, theatre, festivity, insanity and intoxication

Offerings :

Wine

Honey

Olive oil

Apple seeds or apples in general

Grapes

Ivy

Frankincense

Roses

Cinnamon

Pinecone

Fig

Silver fir

Theatre masks

Snake imagery

Bull imagery

Leopard imagery

Pride flags

Cups

Sex toys

Purple candles

White candles

Curved knives or daggers

Devotional acts :

See a theatre show

Go to a party

Wear purple, red or white clothes

Go to a pride event or support lgbtq+

Tell someone you love them

Love yourself.

Write poetry or music

Read poetry

Listen to music that reminds you of him

Drink wine (grape juice if you're underage)

Go dancing or dance at home

Masturbate

Go to festivals

Take care of your mental and physical health

Draw pictures of things associated with him

REMINDER you don't need to do any of these things to worship a deity, these are just suggestions, remember that if you don't want to or can't do any of this that it's totally ok !!

[dionysianivy]

Blessed Anthesteria everyone🍇🍷🌼🐆🌿

May Dionysus bless us all during these three sacred days ahead. May we celebrate freely, with joy and fire in our hearts. We honor God Dionysus and also is a sacred festival of flowers, death, sex, wine, and life. May everyone have a great time and celebrate in whatever way feels right to them.

Hail Lord Dionysus and Kala Anthesteria🌸🍷🕯

[dionysusmybeloved]

ANTHESTERIA🌹

The Anthesteria, also known as the Festival of Flowers was an ancient Athenian festival, dedicated to Lord Dionysus and held during the 11 to 13 of Anthesterion (which is from February 10 to 12 this year). The festival celebrates the start of spring, new wine, and honoring the dead.

HISTORIA

The Festival of Flowers is split into three days. The first day, or Pithoigia (Opening of The Jars) is focused on opening new jars of wine, pouring libations, and drinking mixed wine (usually 3 parts water and 1 part wine). Children often received their own small pots of wine.

The second day, or Khoes (Day of Cups) was filled with drinking wine, eroticism, and sexual ecstasy. By the end of the night, there was a sacred marriage between Lord Dionysus and the queen which occurred in the Temple of Dionysus, and was kept secretive.

The last and third day, or Khytrai (Day of Pots) was devoted to the cult of the dead and the chthonic aspect of Lord Dionysus. Pots containing traditional foods for the dead, cooked grains, and seeds were left out for the spirits of ancestors. Although precautions were made for the dead coming too close.

At the end of the festival, citizens would shout: "Through the doors, Kares, it's no longer Anthesteria!"

HOW TO CELEBRATE?

• Wine-drinking or drinking any kind of fruity beverages

• Mixing sweet wine (3 parts water to 1 part wine)

• Popping open a wine bottle

• Pouring libations (could be non-alcoholic if you want to)

• Hosting feasts and or a potluck

• Decorating your home or altar with flowers (for Pithoigia)

• Visiting a flower garden (for Pithoigia)

• Creating masks and figurines (for Khoes)

• Reading erotic books (for Khoes)

• Offering food for the dead (Khytrai only)

• Creating pots filled with koliva (Khytrai only)

• Reciting and or creating hymns to Lord Dionysus

(Orphic Hymns #30, #45, #46, #53)

(Homeric Hymns #1, #7, #26)

sources: Hellenion (Check this out if you can :D)

HAIL DIONYSOS, AND HAVE A BLESSED ANTHESTERIA🌹

[phantomofthecafe]

Online Offering to Dionysus

🐆Io Euoi!🍷🎭

[letmeinimafairy]

A fragment of a painting depicting a procession of the Dionysian mysteries, a young satyr.

Continuing the series about Daniel's hidden storage, a commission for @eccentricisthegame. Because there's no way Amadeo didn't pose for something related to Dionysus.