The Roman worship of Apollo was adopted from the Greeks. Apollo had no direct Roman equivalent, although later Roman poets often referred to him as Phoebus.
Mythographers agree that Artemis was born first and then assisted with the birth of Apollo, or that Artemis was born one day before Apollo, on the island of Ortygia and that she helped Leto cross the sea to Delos the next day to give birth to Apollo.
As the patron of Delphi, Apollo was an oracular go, the prophetic deity of the Delphic Oracle.
As the god of prophecy. Apollo exercised this power in his numerous oracles, and especially in that of Delphi. The source of all his prophetic powers was Zeus himself and Apollo is accordingly called “the prophet of his father Zeus”. According to Apollodorus, the oracle had previously been in the possession of Themis, and the dragon Python guarded the mysterious chasm, and Apollo, after having slain the monster, took possession of the oracle.
Apollo was also known as “the god who affords help and wards off evil”. He had the power of visiting men with plagues and epidemics, so he was also able to deliver men from them.
Apollo was furthermore depicted as the God of Music. This is shown particularly on the Iliad, in which he appears delighting the immortal gods with his play on the phorminx during their repast. Besides, the Homeric bards derived their art of song either from Apollo or the Muses.
He was also considered a God related to the Foundation of Towns. His assistance in the building of Troy was very important, respecting his aid in raising the walls of Megara.
Medicine and healing were associated with Apollo too, whether through the god himself or mediated through his son Asclepius.
Coronis was Apollo’s lover and Asclepius’ mother. She was a princess of the Thessalian kingdom of Phlegyantis.
When she was pregant with his son, Coronis committed adultery with a man named Ischys (“the Mighty”).
Apollo knew it as he had commanded his divine messenger, the white raven, to guard Coronis. When the raven brought news to Apollo of his lover’s infidelity, the god, angered at the bird, turned the raven’s white feathers black. Apollo killed Ischys and sent his sister, Artemis, to destroy her.
Apollo’s sister, Artemis, slew Coronis with her deadly arrows.
Whilst Coronis was burning on the pyre Apollo made sure to remove his son (Asclepius) from her womb and he gave it to the Chiron, (son of Cronus, Zeus’ Father and God of time and the ages, and the Oceanid Nymph, Philyra), who was as the eldest and wisest of the Centaurs, a tribe of half-horse men.
Coronis was later placed amongst the stars as the constellation Corvus (“the Crow”).
In Hellenistic times, especially during the 3rd century BCE, as Apollo Helios he became identified among Greeks with Helios, God of the Sun, and his sister Artemissimilarly equated with Selene, Goddess of the Moon.
Furthermore, the Horae could be related to the portions of time of the Day (twelve hours for the Ancient Greeks) These Horae oversaw the path of the Sun-God Helios (Apollo) as he travelled across the sky, dividing the day into its portions.
Apollo was worshipped throughout the Roman Empire. In the Celtic lands he was most often seen as a Healing and Sun God.
Geofrey dixit: I am an apprentice poet and fiction writer, working to learn the skill of turning life into words, and the even greater skill of turning words into life. I love pretty pictures, distant dreams, and silent sleep. More than anything else I am a lover of words, of the way words can bring us together and allow us, so briefly, to feel ourselves echoed in another’s thoughts. I write because literature can lift us out of ourselves, put us into another person’s mind, and, for a moment, reconcile us to our so solitary condition. If I can learn to do that, maybe in some small way I’ll have justified a part of my existence.
My blogger friends Sylvester from Syl65’s Blog and Marlyn from Kintal have invited me for a so called 3-Day Quote Challenge.
The rules of the challenge are: ♠Post your favorite quotes or your own quotes for three (3) posts in a row. ♠Thank the person who nominated you. ♠Pass it on to three (3) other bloggers per quote, each time you post them. Or pass it to nine (9) bloggers if you choose to post all the quotes together, in the same post.
⚠ Note: I will post the three (3) quotes at once. Thus I will nominate nine (9) Bloggers. Also, I thought It would be fun to add those three quotes on personal photographs… So that’s what I did! 😀
~(Featuring My Family and Me)~ Click on the images to read ~
“It is only with the passions of others that we are ever really familiar, and what we come to discover about our own can only be learned from them” [“Swann’s Way”. Marcel Proust]~
“I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then”. [“Alice in Wonderland”. Lewis Carroll]~
“I call people rich when they’re able to meet the requirements of their imagination”. [“The Portrait of a Lady”. Henry James]~
I suggest you to check out these blogs and follow them, if you haven’t still done so…
•Rules for these Three Awards: ♠Thank the person who nominated you. ♠Add the logo to your post. ♠Nominate ten (10) bloggers of your choice and tell them about the nomination.
•Notes:
-As always I am not answering questions. Hence, I will just nominate ten bloggers per award.
-If you have been nominated and want to follow the Nomination Process, just click on the award for which you have been awarded to. That way you’ll be able to grab in regular size!.~ 💗💖💕
La historia se desarrolla en la ciudad de Ginebra, Suiza. El film comienza con una llamada entre Valentine, una modelo, y su novio posesivo.
Valentine atropella en una secuencia siguiente a la perra del ex juez Joseph Kern y ambos se conocen. El juez Kern espía conversaciones ajenas mientras desarrolla un vínculo platónico con la modelo suiza, Valentine.
Se desarrolla entonces una historia paralela, centrada en Auguste, vecino de Valentine, quien estudia leyes. Auguste entra y sale de la rutina diaria de Valentine sin haberse percatado de ello.
Por su parte, él sufre la traición de su amada, Karin, cuyas conversaciones de infidelidad han sido monitoreadas por el ex juez Kern, quien resulta ser su vecino. El propio juez retirado Joseph Kern había sufrido una experiencia dolorosa de infidelidad muy similar a ésta.
Kieslowski crea una serie de paralelismos entre el viejo juez retirado y el joven juez Auguste.
La conexión simbólicamente más clara es la del libro de Derecho que se les cae a ambos abierto en una página aleatoria accidentalmente, y que les adelanta la pregunta que les harán en un próximo examen final.
Tanto el juez como Auguste tienen lapiceras de tinta. A Auguste se la regala el día en que se recibirá la amante que luego le es infiel con otro hombre. La pluma del Juez retirado ya no funciona. Pero posiblemente fue con ésta con la que firmó su primer sentencia “injusta” como juez, liberando de cargos a un hombre que era culpable, según sabremos por lo que le contará a Valentine.
Tanto El juez como Auguste fueron traicionados por mujeres rubias, a quienes hallaron in fraganti con sus amantes supletorios. Ambos siguieron el itinerario de las mujeres infieles y sus amantes en forma furtiva, espiándolas y viajando a Inglaterra, hasta que un accidente termina con la vida de sus amadas rubias y su ocasional amante, sobreviviendo los hombres “de leyes”.
El juez al parecer provocará (inintencionadamente) un encuentro entre Valentine y el joven juez, como para corregir el fallo anterior.
El propio Kieslowski ha dicho que “la cuestión esencial de la película plantea es: ¿es posible reparar un error que se haya cometido “injustamente?.
►Conexiones, Jerarquías y Nexos Simbólicos.
♠Color Rojo: Domina las conexiones de la película. Puede asociárselo con: la sangre , el deseo , la vergüenza , la ira , el amor.
Está presente en los escenarios de la película, el jeep de Auguste, los grandes carteles de Valentine, las publicidades y sesiones de fotos de la modelo, la la máquina tragamonedas del Café Joseph; cuyo nombre a la vez reproduce el nombre del Juez retirado.
♠Teléfonos: Como en la serie de “Decálogo”, los teléfonos son una presencia común. Las comunicaciones telefónicas a veces se interrumpen; o no son atendidas. O si lo son, no se trata de la persona con quien se quiere hablar.
Las comunicaciones se cortan o no dan un mensaje verdadero o equívoco. Quizás el ejemplo más claro sea el de la llamada al servicio meteorológico por parte del juez retirado poco antes de que Valentine viaje a Londres.
Si bien le dicen que será un día de excelentes condiciones climáticas, se desatará una tormenta inusitada en medio del mar, estando la protagonista a bordo de un buque rumbo a Inglaterra. Una tragedia que dejará siete sobrevivientes será el resultado de la predicción errada.
Esto recuerda a “Decálogo Uno”, cuando el padre de Pawel y el niño calculan el nivel de espesor de hielo, tras hacer una llamada al servicio Meteorológico. Concluyen que era seguro que el niño saliera a patinar sobre hielo. Pero el agua congelada del lago, se quiebra y el Pawel muere trágicamente, cuando cae dentro de la profunda fosa helada.
♠Vidrios y Ventanas: Marcan separaciones de planos o evitan la posibilidad de un contacto físico. Existen además niveles entre estos planos de existencia, en general marcados por la altura: los personajes aparecen en varias tomas uno por encima o por debajo del otro. Cuando Valentine y el juez hablan en su casa, uno está siempre más alto que el otro. En la última conversación crucial entre Valentine y el juez, ella se pone de pie en el escenario mirándolo desde arriba.
Posiblemente lo que intentó sugerir Kieslowski es la verdadera igualdad o fraternidad (temas de la película) no existe fácticamente.
►Otros detalles y simetrías:
La escena de la papelera de reciclaje en la cual una anciana trata de introducir una botella en la litera. Esta secuencia es homóloga a la que aparece en “Decálogo Nueve”.
También el tema de Van Den Budenmayer (compositor de ficción, seudónimo de Preisner) que escucha Valentine en la disquería es el mismo que el de “Decálogo Nueve”: “No desearás a la mujer de tu Prójimo”.
Homología en los nombres: Marc el veterinario que cura a la perra del viejo juez y Marc el hermano de Valentine. Joseph, el Juez retirado y el Café Joseph, que Valentine frecuenta.
Las cerezas de la máquina tragamonedas y el yogur de cereza o similar que come Valentine.
La publicidad de goma de mascar de la modelo y el chicle que alguien introduce en la cerradura de la puerta de su departamento, dificultándole el ingreso.
El jeep de Auguste que se queda sin batería por dejar él los faros encendidos, y el hecho de que el juez deba recargar la batería de su antiguo auto para ir al desfile de modas de Valentine.
Finalmente los grandes carteles publicitarios de la prtagonista y el primer plano de Valentine, después de haber sobrevivido a la catástrofe, al final de la película. Ambas son idénticas. Auguste está a su lado. Entendemos que la inconmensurabibilidad de la tragedia los unirá y que incluso a partir de los hechos más tristes puede nacer el amor…
The film concerns a young student-cum-model (Irene Jacob) who, having knocked over a dog in her car, takes it back to its owner. He is an elderly, retired judge (Jean-Louis Trintignant) who is not much concerned about the animal and would prefer not to be disturbed.
He now lives a reclusive life. If I’m not much mistaken, he views the world and his work in much the same way as the director himself. If a cynic is a frustrated romantic, this is the man who most clearly exemplifies it. And so, of course, does Kieslowski , who knows full well that his recent elevation to fashionable auteur is as chancy a process as his years of comparative neglect.
Early in the film, a literal image of telephone cable is enough to question what it means for these characters to communicate. When Valentine (Irene Jacob) makes a phone call to her lover, Michael, a phone is seen ringing in the apartment of Auguste (Jean-Pierre Lorit), who lives across the street from Valentine. Why? Valentine and Auguste do not precisely know each other. But maybe they do, or should, or will. Mr. Kieslowski is particularly expert this time in constructing puzzling, overlapping patterns that bind lonely people together. A higher order can be glimpsed, quite movingly, beyond such bonds.
The idea of fraternity emerges through Valentine’s highly charged encounters with a judge (Mr. Trintignant). Though not a love story in any conventional sense, “Red” is very much about the redemptive power of love.
“Red,” which is itself filled with echoes and foreshadowing (greatly heightened by Zbigniew Preisner’s insinuating music), culminates in a ferry crossing. As a red advertising billboard of Valentine becomes a prophecy, she is brought together with the principals from “Blue” and “White.” This juxtaposition of destinies, which is not made to tie up narrative loose ends, is satisfying without being pat.
In the trilogy, “Blue” is the anti-tragedy, “White” is the anti-comedy, and “Red” is the anti-romance. All three films hook us with immediate narrative interest. They are metaphysical through example, not theory: Kieslowski tells the parable but doesn’t preach the lesson. It’s the same with his “Decalogue,” where each film is based on one of the Ten Commandments, but it is not always possible to say which commandment, or precisely what the film is saying about it.
In the same elusive way, using symbolism that only seems to be helpful, “Blue,” “White” and “Red” stand for the three colors of the French tricolor, representing liberty, equality and fraternity. Juliette Binoche, in “Blue,” has the liberty, after her loss of husband and child, to start life again, or not at all. Zbigniew Zamachowski, in “White,” is dropped by his beautiful wife (Julie Delpy) after he goes to a great deal of trouble to move her to Paris. Back home in Poland, he wants to make millions so that he can be her equal, and have his revenge. Valentine and the old judge in “Red” have a fraternity of souls that springs across barriers of time and gender because they both have the imagination to appreciate what could have been.
Interesting intriguing, always fresh – the creative spirit endowed. Featuring : Amalia Pedemonte! who has kindly accepted the invitation – to be my guest today at my blog Let’s listen to what she tell us here…
Stefan Maxima: Amalia good morning! How are you?
Aquileana /Amalia Pedemonte: Hello Stefan. I am fine and hope you are doing well too.It is a pleasure to be talking with you today and being here at your blog for a Guest Post… This is great. Thanks for having me here.
Stefan Maxima You Live in Buenos Aires.tell our readers how is to live in such a beautiful one big city – city that never sleeps -please tell something about their beautiful country – Argentina.
Aquileana /Amalia Pedemonte: Well I live in Buenos Aires, that´s correct but more in the suburbs that surrounds that Big City you have mentioned before. Better for me, I am close but still far away for the huge city… I am not a very “urban crowdy ” person, you know… Well my country is one of the most beautiful ones in America, as I see it… And I am trying to be objective… Mind you, Stefan… It is a very rich country if we mention its natural resources… It is not so rich as other countries in North America… But none of south american countries is… Despite it we are on the right track… Thirty years of democracy and a political project of social inclusion linking to the ideas of sovereign autonomy and self-reliant growth all this lead us to a good present and a hopeful future, full of unborn possibilities…
Stefan Maxima: Your a very peculiar creative spirit…I believe it possibly reflects a high level of inspiration and a great love for what you do when blogging at your site… How and when your creative potential, traps you in its own realms?
Aquileana /Amalia Pedemonte:Well Stephan, thanks for words. When I blog and write i Just do it because i fell a sort of connections with the subject or because I am really interested in it… Of course sometimes some topics are rather interesting than others, but it also depends on what readers will probably like. I love to write for others and I find that internet and socia media are such a powerful tool in this sense and nowadays… I have found real great friend in the virtual world, which would seem paradoxical, but it is true and I have created genuine bonds with people form all around the world. I do believe this is really incredible… I am creative person and In general i love challenges and like to go beyond my own established boundaries… Probably I am a in a sort of constant research of new things… Philosophy never gives me a break. Literature is the emotional substitute to create new realities. Poetry is the voice of human being soul whispering words to us in a subtle way. Movies are the most reliable alternative to boredom and weariness… I live my own story but just wouldn´t be able to go by without the things that makes me feel well about myself and which help me think as Life as a neverending gift…
Lawyer. Attended Universidad de Buenos Aires. (UBA). Facultad de Derecho y Ciencias Sociales. Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires. Argentina
Loves Literature and Philosophy. Writes personal articles and brief stories but her posts are mainly about book reviews, articles on philosphy, analysis of poems and movies, as the most important topics… Special blog for people with general cultural interests
Blog: “La Audacia de Aquiles” (“The Audacity of Achilles”). “El Mundo Visible es Sólo un Pretexto” / “The Visible World is Just a Pretext”. Blog in Spanish / Translation to English ( First Foreign Language ). Blogger Nickname: Aquileana
♠”BriefStory Published at Stefan Maxima´s Website”: “Beyond Life Domains”:
(November 12th, 2013. By Aquileana).-
Those last days of summer lead him to reflection, to tangential thoughts , overwhelming, like cold rain falling heavily on him
Eternity echoed a hail splashing the dim glowing vegetation adjacent to the crossroad which leads to the beach.
The path flowed symmetrically to the sea. A sea of titans that contrasted with that subtle feeling that all was finite. The rivalry of the abyssal and magnanimous blue challenged the Gods to go beyond the limits of the conceivable .
The impassive sea, hiding its forbidden secrets to mortals… Nor even God himself could figure out what and how many new mutations occurred on earth due to sea´s actions.
His soul turned into sudden puffs of joy when he heard the roar of the ocean, the greatest and invincible witness…
The old questions that had been raised by a ancient greek were the sames ones he was asking to himself in that moment…
He concluded that those questions responded to a relationship of constant genetic affinity.
Just that thought and the feeling of brotherhood with an unknown ancestor suddenly became a reproach to himself.
A reflexive movement of opprobrium for realizing that life itself was brief, a mere succession of events; not teleologically determined; just random successive experiences, worldly habits, humanly conceived to fill empty hours, to give life a sense…
He approached to the sharped sea, which was greedily plunging his infinite triumph, as waves crash one against the other.
The inner sound of a seashell , he had put close to his ear, reproduced the roar of the neverending movement of the sea.
He thought about that pre-Socratic phrase, according to which the opposites were attracted between them, being mutually complementary one to the other.
Maybe that was the resulting action of convergence forces, tending to stress the chronological harmony of peace after discord and war were just over…
He concluded that all that, the sea, himself, the seashell, the waves, his ravings were the proof that he was the main character of that play.
Fiction and reality were in fact the same thing. The symbolic meaning of his life´s plot hadn´t been still decoded… Probably It would never be… He was just a mortal, time wouldn´t be enough for him if he was meant to try to unravel all those cryptic misteries and signs …
Life was a dispute with time and not a truce…
He looked further; it was then when he was able to identify within the salt vastness of the deep blue sea, the unavoidable presence of Death…
Almost invisible but yet there, waiting and lurking with stealthy step.
A relentless Destiny. A white and inevitable future, just waiting there behind the line on the horizon…
♠”Brief Story Published at Stefan Maxima´s Website”: “Rain Borderlines”:
(November 23rd, 2013. By Aquileana).-
Hope is a glow that shivers when the stars begin to appear . But those glowing points seem to vanish when she steadily stare at them… Silver flowing stars. Just snappish light that turn into nothingness.
Dreams, outworn by cruel hopes…. Dark Sky above… Hope, she already has lagged it behind her, filed between the folds of old experiences. Hostile features, a legacy of ignominy, that was the aftermath of old lost battles A Spear that still hits… No shields available for fighters that defect …
Past inexhaustibly stalking the pale mist of the present. Today always leads to a wasteland of dry lands, unknown choices, roads untraveled. (What if?) …
Past slowly moving into the present… Timeless conjunction, a shade of a gesture.
Endless plateaus, monotonous wrinkles of the horizon, quiet landscape of infinite slopes. And also the sharp never ending silence.
Veil illusions followed by shuttered glances… The past is still there as a steady branch of the present
Like a breeze which scatters the arid scene, the immutable calm suddenly become a clatter, which falls from the lofty heights
Something known but still unusual sets up into scene. The stage of life, once again. Shaking arrogant skies, rain heavily falling, forces tempting and hurrying Destiny.
A constellation of crystallized drops, insatiably descending from above. Heavily falling, despite its weightlessness. (This is not a paradox, just a subtle irony)
She looks through the window. The obstreperous of rain still falling down… She listens to the rain crashing on the iron sheets of the roof… Mostly clattering there, with its monotone rhythm pouring down once and again
Rain, inexhaustible source of life… Call of change spilling from the sky, spanning all surfaces with pure drops of water…
Waterfalls, rivers, lakes, seas.
Spring water of blue landscapes, flowing throughout turbulent riverbeds and narrow willows…
All liquid surfaces are or have been rainy… Expectations initially came in the size of tiny raindrops, but that was well enough to set up new departure points…
The size of hope increases and so does the amount of Belief. One thing leads to the other.
Let it rain. Water is a liquid border between skepticism and Faith… A pervious line, in fact so easy to cross.
!["It is only with the passions of others that we are ever really familiar, and what we come to discover about our own can only be learned from them" ["Swann's Way". Marcel Proust]~](https://aquileana.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/pedemonte.jpg?w=178&h=262 "Pedemonte")
![“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then”. ["Alice in Wonderland". Lewis Carroll]~](https://aquileana.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/apb2.jpg?w=178&h=148 "apb2")
![“I call people rich when they’re able to meet the requirements of their imagination". ["The Portrait of a Lady". Henry James]~](https://aquileana.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/apb4.jpg?w=314&h=414 "apb4")
Aquileana
⚡️La Audacia de Aquiles⚡️ 