Athenapallas's Blog

October 25, 2010


Filed under: Modern Athenas — athenapallas @ 5:23 pm
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When a stone tablet arrived with an invitation carved in it 

to watch a famous national race where the women wear beautiful hats,  

I decided that I would accept the invitation

and leave my helmet on  the peg for a while.

It is onerous always to be  ready for battle. 

 My helmet gets very heavy and there is not much call these days 

for helmeted warriors whose main skills are with the sword, spear and shield.

The last time I went to such an event was  in Olympia  Greece over 2500 years ago

and I was not actually invited even though my father Zeus was a major sponsor.

Goddesses, women and slaves were forbidden to watch the Hellenic men compete

in foot races, discus and spear throwing, and horse races. 

The pride of Greek and Spartan manhood competed in these events

 and as was the custom of the time they were naked so all could see their muscled splendour and manhood. 

I being the cagey goddess that I was usually changed myself into a man and attended but I knew if I was caught and I could not escape in time I would be thrown from a nearby cliff as was the custom. There was one exception however.  In  767 BC the mother of  one of the most famous sporting heroes  disguised herself as a man to watch her son ride and run to victory. If he had not won her life would not have been spared. 

But where to find a substitute for my trusty helmet so I could attend this 21st century race of races known as

THE MELBOURNE CUP?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

I consulted my friend and rival  Aphrodite who had beaten me in the most famous beauty contest of all time.

She  was still smarting at losing the contest to that bitch Helen of Troy so she  gave me a bum steer and sent to me to large store where ready-made hats hung sadly on hooks and no-one was there to advise me. I was not used to such treatment and even I could see such hats were not fit for a mortal let alone a goddess.

Where the Delphic Oracle Sits

I consulted the Delphic Oracle  and it told me that               

I would need to find a rare person called a milliner

who was trained in the ancient skills of hat making and

who would design a hat specially for me

-one that would draw all eyes my way.

I took this wise advice and headed for

 Philadelphia Philpot Hat studio to meet the famous Wendi.

Vibrant, red-haired and full of fun she soon had me relaxed and hopeful that she could design and make a hat fit for Athena the Warrior Goddess of Ancient Greece.

She showed me many examples of her art and materials and together we  decided on three possibilities.

When she had finished making the hats I returned to try them on.

I gasped when I saw the first one.

This was celestial indeed.

Not only mortals but 

the goddesses of Mt. Olympus would

be so envious and all eyes would be on me as I paraded

before the multitudes. 

Surely this was the one to wear.

But wait there were two more to go.

I could hardly believe my eyes. 

This hat was completely different.                                                                                                                                                

My face was not hidden behind a veil and the top hat

design was fit for a god as well as a goddess.

What to do?

How could I choose between them?

I was about to make a choice when Wendi reminded me there was one more.

Maybe it would be even more outstanding than these two.


This one was so exquisite it took my breath away and the colour was the colour of

the rarest flowers that grew on the islands of the Aegean.

I was so overcome with the beauty and originality of these hats that suited my fine features so well that I decided to take all three of them. I couldn’t wait to return to Mt Olympus with my spoils. Maybe just maybe I would invite  Aphrodite and Helen to accompany me to the race next week wearing one of these special hats.

That could end centuries of conflict as we sipped champagne, placed our bets and tried to spot the most  handsome gods among the other spectators. We wouldn’t worry about other hats. Ours  would be the talk of the town and the heavens.

Thank you Wendi Wonderful Goddess of Hats.

( images on this post are copyright 2009 TorunnMontazi)


October 3, 2010


Filed under: Athena's musings — athenapallas @ 10:48 am
Tags: , , ,

 A new Athena is emerging from the rubble of her former persona. Leaving justice and the arts behind she is  experiencing  the arts of witty discourse, sensuality, healing, and JOY

Aphrodite eat your heart out.  

And as for Odysseus she is sick of trying to guide him on  his tiresome journey home to Ithaca. 

‘Why don’t you just stay another seven years with that vacuous bloody goddess Circe,’ she yells at him. 

She wants to leave dark Greek tragedies behind and  hone her comic skills by reading the black humour of Ronald Dahl and Aristophanes (an ancient Greek poet and playwrite). 

And how did she leave all this behind her?                          

The Oracle of Delphi Sat Here

She consulted not the Oracle of Delphi  

but a modern Healer and Oracle 

located in the heart of Italian Leichhardt. 

Deep into her obsessions and tragedies she woke one morning hardly able to move. Should she consult one of her learned psychics or medics? They were too far away and she was bored with their endless dancing around her, too afraid to offend the mighty Athena. 

She had the card of a massage therapist, an expert in some sort of esoteric Tibetan Reiki, 

no doubt preceding the era when she reigned supreme. 

She struggled down the street and demanded an audience. 

He emerged from his cave with the deep ringing of Tibetan bells following him. 

She looked up from the seat she had managed to fall into, her eyes lifting from his strong legs to his crotch, torso and noble head to make eye contact. He looked deep into her psyche, commanded her to stand, took her by the hand and led her into his cave. 

As she sat on the bench he still held her hands and her gaze. She looked back without averting her eyes- after all she was the Warrior Goddess of Ancient Greece

‘You are a powerful woman but your grief and fears are splitting you apart. Your body can’t support you and is as twisted as your mind.’ 

She nodded. Why had no-one said this to her before? She told him her body story but he saw into her soul and her ancestry. 

Lying on the bench his skilful strong hands untwisted her  as the aromatic perfumes and the resonant sounds of  his bells cleared her mind of all the mean-spirited, fearful and doubting self talk that was consuming her. 

She floated somewhere between Elysium and Hades 

Santorini Greece

her powers becoming concentrated into the gift 

this beautiful Apollo was bestowing upon her. 

No-one had dared to touch her or speak to her like this before. 

She would have cut them down with her sword or

thumped them with her aegis if they had.

She bravely submitted to the pain of the untwisting as she told him of her great rage that had entered some large black and white birds attacking a man and his son in a nearby park, but sparing her and her female descendants. 

He did not think this strange and understood her panic. She wept and wept  her fears and griefs away. 

She returned to him later in the week laughing, muscles sore, but untwisted in both body and mind. 

He greeted her as he greeted all came into his cave, regardless of gender, race, age, sexual orientation or physical condition, with the  respectful affection of his warm embrace. He is able to contact each person’s fears and self-loathing and convert it into joy as they lie suspended from their woes, learning to become free and fully alive again. His wicked sense of humour is unleashed if you are up for it or he is as gentle as a lamb. When Athena thanked him for his help he told her it was she who had done the healing.

His cave is dark, warm and safe full of the most gorgeous smells and sounds but it is Apollo himself, the proud joyous Oracle of Leichhardt who heals all who enter there in with the spirit of healing in their hearts.

Athens Greece

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