April 22, 2007
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Leda
Zeus fluffed up his feathers, smitten in the snuggle of his down. Pond water brushed smooth against his webbed feet. He sighed and lifted his beak to the sky to drink in the sun when, from his beady black eyes, he saw a screeching eagle tearing through the sky, leading with vicious claws as he descended towards Zeus.
“Damn, that is one ferocious eagle,” said Zeus, reconsidering his decision to turn into a swan for the afternoon and also mildly perplexed—what kind of freakish eagle eats swans?
Before he could get his shit together, Zeus found himself in the arms of a pleasantly naked woman who had been bathing at the other end of the pond.
“Get out of here!” She shouted at the eagle, flapping her arms wildly, causing all sorts of cute jiggles.
Score, Zeus thought.
Annoyed at the loss of one mammoth snack, the eagle let out an ugly “cawwww” and swooped past in search of other animals to munch.
The naked woman sighed and put the swan down on the bank. She stood up and the swan-level view of her heaving, pond-wetted chest was powerfull. A small white feather clung to her lower belly.
“What kind of freakish eagle eats swans?” She said, twisting her damp hair into a bun.
Zeus was in love. Or lust. It was all the same to him really. As was yes and no; neither gods nor swans are known for their attentive listening. Rape and seduction, beast and man; Zeus had little patience for making such trivial distinctions.
After, she sat silently crying on the mossy banks of the pond, head in hands, reeking of rutting and covered in slithery green goose poop and steamy feathers.
“What’s your name, anyhow?” Zeus quacked as he re-fluffed his down with his beak.
“Leda.”
“Queen of Sparta?”
She stood, feeling cold animal slime glop down her thighs. A sardonic and singular laugh spat from her lips.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
My muse for this story was this drawing, Leda, by an emerging Scottish artist named Lindsay McKay. I first saw it setting up our Festival booth at the Glasgow Art Fair this Thursday; I was completely and totally arrested by it. Greek mythology aside, the drawing articulated something that I have always felt about mothers and motherhood; that mothering is a brave and tumultuous act of will and love, all too often done in brutally difficult circumstances. In the myth, Leda cleans up and goes home to the bed of her husband. A few months later, she gives birth to two eggs, each egg containing a set of twins. One of the children born of the eggs was Helen of Troy. Leda never knew which children were a product of her afternoon with Zeus and which were mortal children spawned by her husband. But I like to think that regardless, she loved them all the same and carried on with her life with dignity and grace.
Anyhow, I couldn’t stop thinking about the drawing and the drawing made me think about a million different other things; it made me dream frightening, beautiful and vivid dreams. On Saturday, when I worked an event at the Art Fair, I was shocked to see that the drawing had not sold. I couldn’t leave it for a second time. I bought it and for once in my life, I did not feel that biting pinch of guilt that materialistic acquisitions usually cause in me. I bought it smiling, thinking of it in our home for a lifetime and longer.
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What’s your new muse?
Comments (5)
remember that scary movie where the alien impregnants the people from their head? i think it actually was alien. i bet that drawing was the inspiration for the movie. yikes. anywho. muse? my motorcycle
Very interesting, and I do like your style. And purchasing the inspiration? Score! And you could even print the story and post it beside the drawing. Multimedia!My inspiration has been very random and inexplicable lately. That’s sometimes just the way it is.
That drawing is so god. I love her feet. And you have hit one of my faves in mythology too. When Zeus appeared in these forms i always had this ephemeral notion that he impregnated the women as the spirit or holy ghost did Mary through the angel. Sort of fairy tale like. I never thought of it this way and that picture does bring it out. You have done a great job with the story.I am glad you own it.Currently my muse is a document of 74 pages published yesterday by the Supreme Court. Gonzalez v. Carhart. I am going to do something with that.
Tiny Dinos Go To Bed was a good one. I was quoting that bad boy all the time. I can totally relate to the small purse issue. While I enjoy sometimes having something small when I go out (or not carrying a purse at all) I always need a big purse to carry a book or my little black notebook. Can I just say that I do have a car and sometimes when I’m reading something that I just can’t put down and traffic is bumper to bumper, I sometimes will pull it out. Scary? quite. And my family is nuts so therefore they drive me nuts, and I sometimes would get away from them by going off onto the front porch as well.
I’m really glad that they taught me both languages as well. You know for a long time I thought that that was totally normal and that everyone spoke two languages. English and the language of their family. I thought people who didn’t were weird. Then I found out that I was an exception. I love your story. I love how you took a drawing and a myth and were able to make it your own. It is a rather disturbing piece of art I must say, but I’m glad that you were able to make a guilt free purchase. Is it now on display in your home?
-Jenn
p.s. I’m glad you enjoyed my travel essay. I had sent that to my best friend, and she said that it was hilarious, but it also made her sad, because it actually happened to me. Its okay though, I’ll live. Besides without those horrible experiences I wouldn’t be able to write fun and quirky pieces.
Hmm. I don’t know. Chelsea used to be my muse—and still is, I suppose. But I used to drum up the best ideas while out walking with her. Now I don’t have a reason to randomly walk around for an hour, so ideas come in the shower or on the bus, but it’s not the same.I’m glad you’ve found a new one!