Renée Magritte Paradise Lost

More about Renée Magritte Paradise Lost

The Christian myth has only complicated my love life. I don’t really believe in the term pagan, so I’m not going to define myself as neo-pagan or proto-pagan or anything like that. Linguistically, the word pagan simply means someone who lives in the village, beyond the pale of the church.

I’m very much a devotee of Venus. She saves me all the time—from my dark humor and melancholic mind. She fills my life with beauty.

I read the prompt that generated this image. The first part said mass surrealism, but in my mind it shifted into Surrealist Mass. I’m not going to get into this drifting quality of words—how they move from one place to another. Calling that dyslexia feels like a dead end to me, much like the Garden of Eden story—just a bad myth. I’d rather think of it as eulexic, something positive that happens to poets: words drift in the mind, and you choose the ones that look right, or sound right.

There’s also the word mass—a massive pile of something. Is it like a compost pile? Or is it all of surrealism layered onto one image to produce something incredible, like what our friend I originally borrowed the image from did?

Then I start thinking about religion and surrealism. Is there such a thing as a Surrealist Mass? And if so, who would direct it—and would be the snake once he is taken off the collar?