Choosing the Perfect Proposal Destination: 3 Top Tips

Proposing abroad adds magic to the moment — but picking the right spot can be tricky. These tips will help you create a moment worth saying yes to.

The moment you get down on one knee to pop the question to your significant other deserves a magical location unlike any other. For many, that means heading abroad — to somewhere with the perfect climate, stunning scenery and plenty of lively spots to celebrate your engagement together.

With so many destinations to choose from, picking the right one can feel tricky — and even potentially overwhelming if you don’t know what to look for. To help ease your nerves and make it a stress-free process, here are my top tips to follow to guide you toward the proposal location of your dreams.

1. Pick somewhere significant.

Think back over the history of your relationship. Perhaps you met in a foreign country, took a special holiday together, or share dreams of the same bucket list location you’d both love to visit. Choosing a destination that’s significant to you and your other half is guaranteed to make for a meaningful proposal that feels unique to your love story.

Want to make it even more magical? Travel to your chosen destination for Valentine’s Day, your anniversary or Christmas. If you don’t usually take trips for these occasions, your partner may catch wind of your plans — in which case, you may want to travel during the off-peak season instead to keep the big moment a surprise. Not only will this approach keep your love guessing, but you’ll likely benefit from reduced costs, leaving more money in your budget to make the trip one to treasure.

READ: Planning a Wedding in the UK

2. Look for unusual activities.

Enjoying some fun activities together will help to build the excitement and romance between you both in time for your proposal. You might want to try something new and thrilling — like skiing in Switzerland, or skydiving in New Zealand. Or plan something more relaxed, like a picnic beneath the Eiffel Tower or swimming in crystal-clear Caribbean waters. Just make sure your plans are different enough from your usual activities to make the trip a memorable one from start to finish.

Of course, there’s something to be said for simply taking it easy, too. Delicious food, sunny skies and breathtaking views will help to relax you both. In fact, a quiet moment spent in a beautiful location may work wonders for those pre-proposal nerves.

READ: A Romantic Getaway in Aspen

3. Consider cultural norms

It’s important to research your chosen destination before planning your proposal, as some countries are more conservative than others when it comes to things like holding hands, hugging and kissing, or celebrating with an alcoholic beverage in public. While this shouldn’t stop you from proposing in a place that’s special to you, it does mean that you’ll need to be aware of cultural norms, and plan your proposal to be in line with local rules and etiquette expectations.

The UAE, Egypt, Indonesia and India, for example, each have public decency laws or social guidelines around being affectionate in public with one another in public. If you want to get engaged at one of these locations, it’s best to plan a private proposal. It’ll only help to make the moment that much more intimate and meaningful.

READ: The Best Place to Make Out in Public in India

Keeping the ring safe

It might be the least fun part of planning the proposal, but knowing what you need to do to keep the ring safe is essential.  Thwarted plans as a result of a lost diamond is a nightmare scenario for any proposer. It’s a good idea to get the ring insured before traveling, research your airline’s security policies, and look into the customs regulations for your chosen destination. 

Make sure you store the ring properly, too.  It’s best to keep it securely tucked away in your hand luggage, to protect from damage, loss or, in extreme circumstances, theft.

Proposing Abroad

Once you’ve covered the logistics of getting you, your partner and the all-important ring to your destination safely, all that’s left to do is plan the finishing touches your loved one will appreciate. Whether it’s floral décor, a champagne picnic or a concealed photographer ready to capture your special moment — or perhaps all three of those things — going that extra mile will show your significant other how much you really care. –Samantha Lewis

The Major Hindu Gods and Goddesses

Hinduism is said to have millions of gods — but in practice, a few dozen take center stage. Here’s your guide to the most significant deities and avatars, including Shiva, Ganesha, Vishnu, Saraswati, Krishna, Hanuman, Lakshmi and Kali.

If you’ve ever heard that Hinduism has “330 million gods,” you might picture an endlessly expanding pantheon with so many characters you could spend a lifetime learning about them all. 

The truth is more layered. That astronomical number isn’t a census so much as a poetic way of saying the divine is infinite, manifesting in countless forms and aspects. 

In practice, certain deities emerge again and again — in temple carvings, festival processions, devotional songs and stories passed down through generations.

“Many Hindu gods have skin glowing in hues beyond the human — deep blue for cosmic infinity, gold for radiance, green for life itself.

Multiple arms signal their boundless power, each hand holding a weapon, tool, lotus or blessing. ”

Some are worshipped as supreme in their own right; others are venerated as avatars, or incarnations, of the same cosmic force. You might see the same god in wildly different guises — gentle one moment, ferocious the next — depending on the story being told. And while millions of forms may exist in theory, a core roster of perhaps 20 or so names dominates the Hindu spiritual and cultural imagination.

Here, we’ve gathered the most prominent Hindu gods and goddesses. You’ll meet gods who ride lions, owls, bulls and even mice; goddesses who create, nurture and destroy; and divine heroes whose epics have shaped centuries of art, music and philosophy. 

While each deity is unique in their own way, you’ll notice certain recurring themes that mark their divinity. Many are crowned with halos of light, their skin glowing in hues beyond the human — deep blue for cosmic infinity, gold for radiance, green for life itself. Multiple arms signal their boundless power, each hand holding a weapon, tool, lotus or blessing. They are adorned with jewels and garlands, their forms draped in silks that ripple like clouds or sunlight. At their side waits a faithful vahana, an animal mount whose nature mirrors the god’s own — be it the fierce lion, the graceful swan or the humble mouse. These shared elements form a visual language of the divine, instantly recognizable across temples, paintings and stories.

Whether you’re new to Hindu mythology or deepening your familiarity, consider this your guided tour of the celestial VIP list.

Annapurna

The goddess who feeds the world

Domain: Nourishment, food, abundance, hospitality

Symbolism: Golden ladle for the act of serving, bowl of food for sustenance, grain for prosperity, kitchen hearth for the warmth of home

Appearance: Annapurna’s beauty is that of comfort — the kind that draws you in from the cold and fills your bowl before you can ask. Her skin glows with the warmth of an autumn harvest, and her dark hair falls in glossy waves beneath a golden crown. She wears a crimson sari edged in gold, the color of ripened grain in the sun, and jewels that glint like the first sparks from a cooking fire. In one hand, she holds a golden ladle; in the other, a bowl brimming with food, the eternal promise that no soul will go hungry in her presence.

Mount/Vahana: None traditionally. She’s often depicted seated in a kitchen or temple setting. 

Mythological role: Annapurna is a form of Parvati, born to remind even Shiva that life cannot be lived on renunciation alone. When Shiva once declared that the world was an illusion — including the need for food — she disappeared, and the earth grew barren. Only when hunger touched every being did Shiva seek her out. Finding her in Varanasi, he humbled himself, and she served him a meal with her own hands. From then on, she became the goddess of nourishment, the one who teaches that the spiritual and the physical are inseparable.

Consort and family: As a form of Parvati, she’s the wife of Shiva and mother of Ganesha and Kartikeya.

Associated festivals: Annapurna Jayanti (celebrating her birth), observed mainly in northern India

Worship and significance: Devotees seek Annapurna’s blessings for a plentiful harvest, a stocked kitchen and the generosity to feed others. Her temples often serve prasada (sanctified food) to all who come, without question of wealth or status.

Fascinating fact: The Annapurna temple in Varanasi is one of the few where food — rather than flowers or incense — is the primary offering.

Brahma

The creator, architect of the universe

Domain: Creation, knowledge, the cosmic order

Symbolism: Four heads gazing in all directions, each reciting one of the Vedas; a water pot holding the seed of life; the lotus, symbol of the universe’s unfolding

Appearance: Imagine an elderly yet ageless figure, his beard as white as the snows of the Himalayas, his skin glowing with the faint blush of dawn. Brahma wears robes the color of the rising sun — deep pinks and reds, shimmering with gold threads that catch the light. His four heads turn in unison, surveying all corners of the cosmos. Each face holds a calm, wise expression, as if they’ve already seen all possible futures. In one hand, he holds the Vedas, the sacred knowledge of the universe; in another, a mala (prayer beads) that he uses not for devotion, but for counting the endless cycles of creation and destruction.

Mount/Vahana: A swan named Hamsa, symbolizing discernment and wisdom. The swan is said to be able to separate milk from water, just as Brahma discerns truth from illusion. In art, Hamsa often glides beside him, wings lifted as if in mid-takeoff, ready to carry him across the endless skies.

Mythological role: Brahma’s story begins in a lotus — but not just any lotus. It sprouted from the navel of another god, Vishnu, as he lay upon the cosmic ocean, and from that lotus, Brahma emerged. He became the craftsman of reality, shaping the heavens, Earth and all beings. And yet, despite his monumental role, Brahma is one of the least-worshipped gods in Hinduism. Myth has it this is due to a curse: After a quarrel with Shiva and an act of deceit to prove his supremacy, Brahma lost the right to have temples dedicated to him. Today, there are only a handful of temples in the world where he is the main deity, the most famous being in Pushkar, Rajasthan. He is, though, often found inside spirit houses on Bali. 

Consort and family: Saraswati, goddess of wisdom, is his wife and creative partner — her music and intellect inspiring his act of creation.

Associated festivals: Brahmotsavam in Tirupati carries his name but actually honors Vishnu; Kartik Purnima in Pushkar celebrates him directly.

Worship and significance: As the origin point of creation, Brahma represents knowledge, beginnings and the birth of ideas — whether that’s the universe itself or the spark of inspiration in a human mind.

Fascinating fact: Each of Brahma’s days lasts 4.32 billion human years. At the end of one of his “days,” the universe dissolves into the cosmic ocean, only to be re-created when he awakens. In other words, even the universe has a bedtime.

Chandra

The moon god, keeper of time and tides

Domain: The moon, time, fertility, the mind and the life-giving elixir soma

Symbolism: The luminous crescent moon, the night sky strewn with stars, a chariot pulled by antelopes, and the cool radiance that soothes the earth after the heat of day

Appearance: Picture the night as a velvet canopy, deep navy and speckled with pinpricks of silver light. Cutting through that darkness is Chandra’s chariot — sleek, gleaming, and drawn by a team of pure white antelopes. Chandra has a youthful face, his skin glowing with the pale luminescence of moonlight reflected on water. His black hair flows beneath a crown that holds a crescent moon, its tips like delicate silver horns. Draped in garments of pearl white and soft blue, he carries a lotus, symbol of purity, and his eyes have a dreamy calm that mirrors the gentle pull he exerts on the tides.

Mount/Vahana: A shining chariot drawn by 10 white antelopes (or, in some traditions, horses with antelope heads). The choice of mount reflects agility, swiftness and the moon’s ability to traverse the heavens with grace.

Mythological role: Chandra’s presence in the sky is more than decoration; he is the very heartbeat of time in the Hindu calendar. The waxing and waning of his light marks the rhythm of festivals, rituals and agricultural cycles. But his myths are not without drama. In one tale, Chandra married the 27 daughters of Daksha, the starry “nakshatras” or lunar mansions, but favored one, Rohini, above the rest. His neglect angered Daksha, who cursed him to fade away. This curse explains the moon’s waning phase — until the gods intervened to let him regain his strength, creating the cycle of waxing and waning we see each month.

Chandra is also tied to the sacred drink soma — in some traditions, he is soma personified, the elixir that nourishes gods and mortals alike. When he disappears at the new moon, it is said he is being “drunk” by the gods, only to be reborn and replenished.

Consort and family: Married to the 27 nakshatras, with Rohini as his most beloved. In some myths, he fathers Budha (the planet Mercury, not to be mistaken with the Buddha) with the goddess Tara, sparking a celestial scandal.

Associated festivals: Karva Chauth, where married women fast until they see the moon; Sharad Purnima, celebrating Chandra’s brightest, most benevolent light of the year.

Worship and significance: Chandra governs the mind and emotions in Vedic astrology, influencing calmness, creativity and romance. He is called upon for mental clarity, fertility blessings and the soothing of emotional storms.

Fascinating fact: While most gods have one vahana, Chandra’s chariot is pulled by not one but 10 antelopes, a detail that adds a touch of otherworldly strangeness (and a nod to Santa Claus) to his midnight ride.

Durga

The invincible mother, warrior goddess of cosmic balance

Domain: Protection, destruction of evil, strength, righteousness, the embodiment of shakti (divine feminine power)

Symbolism: Ten arms each bearing a weapon from the gods, the lion or tiger as her mount, and the serene smile of a warrior who knows the battle is already won

Appearance: The horizon burns with gold and crimson light, the air trembling as the roar of a lion cuts through the clamor of war. On its back sits Durga — radiant, unflinching, crowned with a gleaming diadem that catches the sun like fire. Her skin glows like molten gold, and her eyes are wide and steady, reflecting the calm at the heart of a storm. Each of her 10 arms moves with divine precision: One looses an arrow, another swings a sword, another raises a conch to rally her allies. Each weapon was a gift from a god, entrusted to her when they realized no male deity could defeat the demon Mahishasura.

Mount/Vahana: A lion or tiger, symbolizing power, fearlessness and the ferocity needed to destroy evil. In many images, her mount is mid-leap, claws bared, charging into battle beside her.

Mythological role: Durga’s most famous tale is her battle with Mahishasura, a shape-shifting buffalo demon who could not be killed by man or god. For nine days and nights, she fought him, her weapons flashing like lightning. On the 10th day, she struck the final blow, the demon collapsing at her feet. This victory is celebrated as Vijayadashami (the Day of Victory), and the nine nights of battle as Navratri. But Durga isn’t just a warrior — she’s also a compassionate mother and a guardian of the innocent, protecting the world from forces that disrupt cosmic order.

Consort and family: Considered an aspect of Parvati, wife of Shiva, and mother to Ganesha and Kartikeya. In her warrior form, she stands apart, representing the untamed energy that even the gods must revere.

Associated festivals: Durga Puja, Navratri, Vijayadashami — all filled with dancing, music and processions of her image returning to the water from which she came.

Worship and significance: Durga is called upon for courage, protection and the strength to face seemingly insurmountable challenges. Her image is often placed at thresholds or in vehicles as a ward against danger.

Fascinating fact: In many depictions, Durga is shown skewering Mahishasura at the exact moment he shifts from buffalo to human form — symbolizing her mastery over chaos itself, striking at the perfect moment when the enemy is most vulnerable.

Ganesha

The granter of boons, remover of obstacles, lord of beginnings and wisdom

Domain: Wisdom, intellect, new ventures, success, remover of obstacles both physical and spiritual

Symbolism: Elephant head (wisdom and memory), large ears (listening deeply), small eyes (focus), a curved trunk (adaptability), broken tusk (sacrifice for knowledge), a sweet dumpling known as modak (reward of spiritual pursuit)

Appearance: A figure that makes everyone smile. Ganesha sits with the casual ease of someone who has already solved your problems before you’ve spoken them aloud. His elephant head is grand yet gentle, with eyes that crinkle in amusement and ears spread like open hands, ready to catch every prayer. His skin is often a warm pink or golden hue, adorned with rich silks in reds and yellows, gold bangles chiming softly at his wrists. One hand raises in blessing; another holds a sweet modak, its conical shape a symbol of spiritual rewards. Another hand may wield an axe, to cut away attachments, while the fourth carries a rope, to draw devotees closer to their goals.

Mount/Vahana: A small, humble mouse named Mushika. At first glance, it seems absurd — an enormous god riding a tiny creature — but the symbolism is deliberate. The mouse represents desires, which can gnaw endlessly if unchecked. Ganesha, in riding it, shows mastery over impulses, and the ability to reach even the smallest corners of the mind where obstacles hide.

Mythological role: Ganesha’s origin stories are as colorful as his depictions. In the most popular version, Parvati fashioned him from the turmeric paste she used for bathing, breathing life into the boy to guard her privacy. When Shiva, her husband, returned and found this unknown child blocking his way, he beheaded him in a fit of divine rage. Realizing his mistake, Shiva replaced the head with that of the first creature he found — an elephant — and bestowed upon Ganesha the role of guardian of thresholds, beginnings and new journeys.

He appears in countless tales, often outwitting gods and demons alike with his quick thinking. One famous story tells how he won a race around the world against his brother Kartikeya by circling his parents, declaring that they were his whole world — a victory earned through wisdom, not speed.

Consort and family: Son of Shiva and Parvati, brother to Kartikeya. In some traditions, married to Siddhi (spiritual power) and Buddhi (intellect).

Associated festivals: Ganesh Chaturthi: a 10-day celebration where clay idols of Ganesha are immersed in water, symbolizing both his arrival and return to the divine realm.

Worship and significance: Ganesha is invoked at the start of all endeavors — whether building a temple, writing a book or opening a shop. His image is often placed above doorways, on business ledgers and on the dashboards of cars, ensuring smooth beginnings and safe journeys. As Vighnaharta, the remover of obstacles, and Varada, the granter of boons, he is the god to whom devotees turn when seeking success, blessings and protection.

Fascinating fact: The broken tusk has several explanations. In one, Ganesha broke it off to use as a quill for writing the epic Mahabharata as the sage Vyasa dictated it, agreeing never to stop until the work was complete. The sacrifice turned a blemish into an eternal symbol of devotion to knowledge.

Hanuman

The monkey god, embodiment of strength and devotion

Domain: Courage, loyalty, protection, selfless service

Symbolism: The gada (mace) for strength, the mountain he carries for resourcefulness, and his open chest revealing the images of Rama and Sita — a literal heart of devotion

Appearance: A figure with the face of a monkey but the stance of a seasoned warrior — broad shoulders, a long curling tail, eyes full of determination. Hanuman’s skin is often rendered in shades of deep gold or copper, his muscles taut with power earned through ascetic discipline. He wears a simple dhoti, sometimes red, sometimes saffron, with golden ornaments that catch the light as he moves. His most striking image is not when he wields his mace or leaps across the sea, but when he tears open his chest to reveal the divine couple Rama and Sita glowing inside — proof that they live in his heart.

Mount/Vahana: None in the traditional sense; Hanuman’s own supernatural strength, speed, and ability to leap vast distances make him his own transport. In art, he’s often shown soaring through the air, wind whipping through his fur.

Mythological role: Hanuman’s story is woven tightly into the Ramayana. Born to Anjana and blessed by the wind god Vayu, he displayed superhuman powers from childhood — once leaping to catch the sun, mistaking it for a fruit. As an adult, he becomes the devoted ally of Rama in the quest to rescue Sita from Ravana. His feats include burning the city of Lanka with his flaming tail, carrying an entire mountain of herbs to heal Lakshmana, and crossing oceans in a single bound. Yet for all his power, Hanuman is known for humility — he never seeks glory for himself, only the success of Rama’s mission.

Consort and family: Celibate by choice, devoting all his energy to service and devotion. Son of Anjana and the wind god Vayu.

Associated festivals: Hanuman Jayanti, celebrated with recitations of the Hanuman Chalisa and offerings of sindoor (vermilion powder).

Worship and significance: Hanuman is called upon for strength in adversity, courage in the face of danger, and protection from evil influences. Temples dedicated to him often have devotees chanting his name or circling the shrine for blessings.

Fascinating fact: Hanuman’s name means “disfigured jaw” — a reference to the childhood incident where Indra struck him with a thunderbolt when he tried to grab the sun, injuring his jaw but also awakening his divine powers.

Indra

King of the heavens, wielder of the thunderbolt

Domain: Rain, storms, war, kingship, protection of cosmic order (ṛta)

Symbolism: The Vajra (thunderbolt) for irresistible power, Airavata the elephant for strength and majesty, rain clouds for life-giving abundance, the rainbow for divine promise

Appearance: Indra stands tall and broad-shouldered, the bearing of a warrior-king in every line of his frame. His skin glows with the vitality of fresh rain on sunlit stone, and his eyes flash with the quicksilver of lightning. A golden crown rests on his brow, studded with gems that mirror the colors of the sky — sapphire for the clear day, opal for the gathering storm. Draped in silks the color of storm clouds, he carries the Vajra, forged from the bones of the sage Dadhichi, a weapon that can shatter even the mightiest foe.

Mount/Vahana: Airavata, the great white elephant, vast as a mountain and crowned with four tusks. His steps shake the earth, and from his trunk he sprays water that feeds the clouds, heralding the monsoon.

Mythological role: Indra is the king of the Devas and ruler of Svarga, the heavenly realm. In the Vedic age, he was the supreme god, the bringer of rain and the breaker of drought. His most famous legend tells of his battle with Vritra, the serpent-demon who had imprisoned the world’s waters. Riding Airavata and wielding the Vajra, Indra struck Vritra down, freeing the rivers and restoring life to the land. Later myths show him as both hero and flawed figure — brave in battle, quick to defend the gods, yet prone to pride and desire.

Consort and family: Married to Shachi (also called Indrani), queen of the heavens. Son of the sky-god Dyaus and the dawn goddess Prithvi in some accounts, though genealogies vary.

Associated festivals: While Indra is less central in modern Hindu worship, he’s honored in certain regional festivals, such as Indra Jatra in Nepal, which celebrates him as the god of rain and the harvest.

Worship and significance: Once the chief deity of the Rigveda, Indra’s prominence has shifted over time. But he remains a powerful symbol of leadership, protection and the life-giving force of rain. Farmers and warriors alike have invoked his name for victory and survival.

Fascinating fact: In some Balinese traditions, Indra is seen as a mediator between gods and humans — a role that has parallels in the island’s legends of Barong and Rangda, the eternal dance of protection and destruction.

Kali

The fierce mother, devourer of time, destroyer of illusions

Domain: Destruction of evil, liberation, transformation, time, empowerment

Symbolism: Garland of severed heads (knowledge gained through ego’s destruction), skirt of severed arms (detachment from action), lolling red tongue (shock and raw power), weapons and a severed demon head in her hands (victory over darkness)

Appearance: Kali does not arrive quietly. She bursts into the battlefield like a storm let loose, her skin the color of midnight, absorbing all light. Her hair streams wild and unbound, a living halo of chaos, and her eyes blaze like twin suns at the moment of apocalypse. Around her neck hangs a grisly garland — fifty severed heads, each representing a Sanskrit letter, a reminder that all speech and creation eventually dissolve into silence.

Her skirt is a belt of severed arms, trophies from foes, but also a symbol that the fruits of action belong to the divine, not to the ego. In two hands she holds weapons: a sword and a trident; in another, she clutches the freshly severed head of a demon, its blood still dripping onto the ground. Her other hands are extended in gestures of blessing and reassurance, an unsettling reminder that the one who destroys also protects.

Mount/Vahana: None in her most iconic form — Kali’s arrival is so sudden and overwhelming that she needs no mount. In some regional depictions, she is associated with jackals or rides upon the corpse of a demon, symbolizing her mastery over death itself.

Mythological role: Kali’s most famous appearance comes in the battle against the demon Raktabija. Each drop of his blood that hit the earth produced another demon, making him nearly impossible to kill. Kali’s solution was both brilliant and terrifying: she tore through the battlefield, drinking his blood before it could touch the ground, consuming him entirely.

But her ferocity once threatened to tip into total annihilation. In a victory frenzy, she rampaged across the world until Shiva lay down in her path. Stepping on him, she realized what she was doing — her tongue darting out in shock. That moment is immortalized in her most famous pose: foot on Shiva’s chest, tongue out, eyes wide, the destroyer stopped by compassion.

Consort and family: Considered a form of Parvati, consort of Shiva, though in her aspect as Kali she often acts alone.

Associated festivals: Kali Puja, coinciding with Diwali in Bengal; Navratri in her fierce aspect.

Worship and significance: Kali is worshipped not for gentle blessings, but for transformation — she burns away illusions, attachments, and fears. Devotees come to her to destroy what is holding them back, knowing the process may be as fierce as she is.

Fascinating fact: In Tantric traditions, Kali is not feared but embraced as the ultimate reality — the womb and the tomb, creation and destruction in one. Her darkness is not evil, but the infinite void from which all life emerges and to which it returns.

Kartikeya (aka Murugan)

The youthful warrior, commander of the divine army

Domain: War, victory, wisdom, leadership, guardianship of dharma

Symbolism: Spear (vel) for piercing ignorance, peacock for pride mastered, rooster emblem for dawn and vigilance.

Appearance: Kartikeya is the god of youth and vigor, and it shows in every depiction. He’s sometimes depicted with six faces (a nod to his birth story, below), though most often as a youth with a single handsome face. His skin glows like burnished gold, his features sharp and confident, with eyes that flash like drawn steel. His hair falls in dark waves past a diadem encrusted with rubies, and his body is draped in fine silks the color of peacock feathers. Across his chest gleams a golden chain, and in one hand he holds the vel, a spear so perfectly balanced it seems to float in his grasp.

The vel was a gift from his mother Parvati, forged from her own shakti (divine power), and it never misses its mark. In his other hand he may carry a small banner emblazoned with a rooster, whose crowing heralds the light that drives away the night’s dangers.

Mount/Vahana: A regal peacock named Paravani, feathers iridescent with blues and greens that shimmer like oil on water. The peacock is a symbol of beauty and vanity mastered — its sharp talons and fierce beak a reminder that elegance does not preclude ferocity. In many depictions, the peacock tramples a serpent beneath its claws, representing the conquest of harmful desires and ego.

Mythological role: Kartikeya was born for battle. When the demon Tarakasura could only be slain by Shiva’s son, the gods sought to bring Shiva and Parvati together. From their union came six sparks of fire, carried by the river Ganga to a lotus pond, where they became six infants. The celestial nymphs known as the Krittikas nurtured them, and when Parvati embraced all six at once, they merged into one child with six faces — a tradition that gave him an alternate name Shanmukha, “Six-Faced One.”

He grew to be the general of the gods’ army, leading them to victory against Tarakasura. In South India, he is celebrated as Murugan, the patron of Tamil culture and poetry, embodying both the scholar and the warrior.

Consort and family: Son of Shiva and Parvati, brother to Ganesha. In some traditions, he’s married to Valli and Devasena.

Associated festivals: Thaipusam, Skanda Shashti, Panguni Uthiram — celebrated with grand processions, kavadi offerings such as pots of milk, and feats of devotion.

Worship and significance: Kartikeya is invoked for courage, clarity and success in competition. In Tamil Nadu, devotees climb hills barefoot to reach his temples, mirroring the god’s own journey to conquer the heights of battle.

Fascinating fact: In some depictions, Kartikeya’s peacock mount is shown turning its head to watch him closely, as if taking silent instruction — a visual metaphor for the disciplined control of power and pride.

Krishna

The divine lover, cowherd and protector of dharma

Domain: Love, compassion, joy, divine play (lila), protection of the righteous

Symbolism: Flute for the music of the soul, peacock feather for beauty and grace, cows for abundance and gentleness, yellow garments for the light of divinity

Appearance: Krishna’s beauty is the kind that makes time pause. His skin is the deep blue of monsoon clouds, luminous and alive, as if it holds the promise of rain. His eyes are dark and playful, holding secrets he’ll never tell outright; instead, he lets them slip in song. Around his head rests a crown woven with fresh peacock feathers, shimmering emerald and sapphire. He wears a yellow pitambara (silken dhoti) that moves like sunlight caught in a breeze.

He holds his flute to his lips, coaxing a melody so sweet that cows stop grazing, rivers change their course to listen, and hearts — even those hardened by pride — begin to soften. At his feet, the gopis (cowherd girls) stand transfixed, drawn not just to his beauty but to the boundless love it reflects.

Mount/Vahana: None. Krishna’s life is pastoral; he walks among cows in the town of Vrindavan, accompanied by the sound of ankle bells and the laughter of companions. In battle, he drives the warrior Arjuna’s chariot as a guide rather than a mounted warrior.

Mythological role: Krishna’s story spans from playful trickster to statesman and philosopher. As a child, he stole butter from every household, earning the nickname Makhan Chor (“Butter Thief”), and once lifted the massive Govardhan Hill on his finger to shelter villagers from a storm sent by the rain god Indra. As an adult, he becomes the moral compass and strategist of the Mahabharata, delivering the Bhagavad Gita to Arjuna on the eve of battle: a discourse on duty, devotion and the eternal soul that has shaped Hindu philosophy for millennia.

But Krishna is also the god of lila — divine play. His romances with Radha and the gopi cowherd girls work also as metaphors for the soul’s yearning for union with the divine.

Consort and family: Beloved of Radha; in later life, married to Rukmini and other queens of the legendary city of Dwaraka. Son of Vasudeva and Devaki, raised by Nanda and Yashoda.

Associated festivals: Janmashtami (his birth), Holi (the festival of colors, recalling his playful smearing of colors on Radha)

Worship and significance: Krishna is worshipped as the supreme personality of godhead in many traditions. Devotees seek him for joy, love and guidance, whether in the innocence of childhood games or the gravity of moral decisions.

Fascinating fact: Krishna’s flute, called Murali, gets its power from the divine breath that flows through it, reminding devotees that we are instruments for the divine will when we let go of ego.

Lakshmi

The radiant goddess of fortune, beauty and abundance

Domain: Wealth, prosperity, good fortune, fertility, spiritual abundance

Symbolism: Lotus flowers for purity and spiritual awakening, gold coins flowing from her palms for prosperity, elephants for royal authority and generosity

Appearance: Lakshmi is the very embodiment of grace — a vision bathed in light as if she herself is the sunrise breaking over still waters. Her skin glows with a golden warmth, and she wears a red sari embroidered with gold thread, the fabric rippling like firelight. Each movement is deliberate and fluid, like the gentle opening of a lotus.

In most depictions, she stands or sits upon a blooming lotus floating on the cosmic ocean, the petals cupping her like a throne. Two of her four hands hold lotuses, their long stems rising gracefully; the other two extend in blessing, one palm open in reassurance, the other pouring an endless stream of gold coins that pile into shimmering mounds at her feet. The air around her is alive with elephants spraying water from golden vessels, symbols of strength and auspiciousness.

Mount/Vahana: An owl, symbolizing wisdom and the ability to see through darkness. Though rarely emphasized in modern depictions, the owl reminds devotees that wealth without wisdom can lead to downfall — Lakshmi’s blessings must be balanced with discernment.

Mythological role: Lakshmi emerged fully grown from the churning of the cosmic ocean (Samudra Manthan), radiant and carrying a lotus. The gods and demons had worked together to churn the ocean for the nectar of immortality, but it was Lakshmi’s appearance that became the crowning blessing of their labor. She chose Vishnu as her eternal consort, and from then on accompanied him in every incarnation — as Sita to his Rama, as Rukmini to his Krishna.

True prosperity, she teaches, includes health, love, knowledge and spiritual growth. In some stories, she tests the worthiness of those who seek her, disappearing from households where greed and injustice reign.

Consort and family: Wife of Vishnu; in his earthly incarnations, she is born alongside him.

Associated festivals: Diwali, especially Lakshmi Puja, when homes are cleaned, lit with lamps, and decorated to welcome her

Worship and significance: Lakshmi is one of the most widely worshipped deities in Hinduism. Businesses open their books in her name, households pray to her for stability, and farmers seek her blessing for fertile fields.

Fascinating fact: In southern India, Lakshmi is sometimes depicted in eight forms known as Ashtalakshmi, each representing a different type of wealth — from material prosperity to courage, fertility and knowledge.

Meenakshi

The warrior-queen and fish-eyed goddess of Madurai, one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world 

Domain: Fertility, prosperity, protection of Madurai, righteous rule

Symbolism: Green skin for life and abundance, fish-shaped eyes for watchfulness and grace, crown for sovereignty, parrot for love and divine speech

Appearance: Meenakshi’s beauty is unlike any other — her skin glows a vivid green, like new rice shoots after the rain, a sign of the fertile abundance she brings. Her almond-shaped eyes, long and luminous, are said to resemble fish — always open, never blinking, guarding her people as a fish watches over its young. She wears royal silks in deep magenta and gold, and a towering crown studded with rubies and emeralds. In one hand she holds a bouquet of lotuses; in the other, a parrot perches, its feathers bright as new leaves, whispering divine secrets into her ear.

Mount/Vahana: Often depicted standing rather than riding, but sometimes shown with a parrot or lion as her companion.

Mythological role: Born to the king and queen of Madurai after a divine promise from the gods, Meenakshi entered the world with three breasts — a sign she was destined for greatness. Prophecy foretold that the extra breast would vanish when she met her future husband. A fierce warrior, she led armies to conquer neighboring lands, never defeated in battle. When she encountered Shiva in his form as Sundareshwarar, her third breast disappeared, and they were wed in a grand ceremony that united divine power with royal rule.

Consort and family: Married to Shiva (as Sundareshwarar) and worshipped alongside him. Considered an incarnation of Parvati

Associated festivals: Meenakshi Thirukalyanam (her celestial wedding), Chithirai Festival in Madurai

Worship and significance: Meenakshi is the heart of Madurai’s spiritual life, enshrined in the colossal Meenakshi Amman Temple, whose gopurams (gateway towers) rise like jeweled mountains over the city. She is both a tender mother and an unflinching protector, blessing devotees with prosperity while defending her city with warrior strength.

Fascinating fact: In Tamil tradition, parrots are symbols of eloquence and divine love, repeating sacred mantras and carrying messages between the human and divine realms.

Parvati

The gentle mother, devoted wife and wellspring of divine energy

Domain: Love, fertility, marital devotion, spiritual power (shakti)

Symbolism: Lotus for purity, mirror for self-knowledge, red garments for passion and vitality, and her many forms — from nurturing Annapurna to fierce Durga and terrifying Kali.

Appearance: Parvati’s beauty is the quiet kind — like a lamp’s steady flame, constant and unwavering. Her skin glows with the warm bronze of sunlit earth, and her large, compassionate eyes seem to see through pretenses straight to the heart. She wears a red sari edged in gold, its color speaking of both love and strength, and her long black hair is often braided and adorned with fresh flowers. A crescent moon, borrowed from her husband Shiva, sometimes gleams in her hair, a sign of their eternal bond.

When she sits beside Shiva atop Mount Kailash, she radiates the warmth that softens his ascetic severity. Yet within that serenity is the power of all the goddesses — the potential to become the lion-riding Durga or the dark, storm-eyed Kali when the world needs defending.

Mount/Vahana: Lion or tiger, representing courage, power and her latent warrior nature. While gentle in her most common form, her vahana is a reminder that she carries within her the force to vanquish evil.

Mythological role: Parvati’s love story with Shiva is one of devotion and persistence. Born as the daughter of the mountain king Himavan, she fell in love with Shiva, the god of destruction, who was lost in deep meditation. Her devotion was tested by years of austerity and trials, until Shiva finally accepted her as his wife. Together, they are the divine couple whose union balances ascetic withdrawal and earthly engagement.

As a mother, Parvati is nurturing yet fiercely protective — the one who fashioned Ganesha from her own body and defended her privacy against even Shiva himself. Her many forms represent the full spectrum of the feminine divine: the giver of food as Annapurna, the destroyer of demons as Durga, the liberator as Kali.

Consort and family: Wife of Shiva, mother of Ganesha and Kartikeya

Associated festivals: Teej (celebrating marital devotion), Navratri (in her various forms)

Worship and significance: Parvati is worshipped by women for marital happiness, fertility and family well-being. She’s also invoked for strength and balance, as she embodies the union of compassion and power.

Fascinating fact: In one tale, Parvati playfully covered Shiva’s eyes from behind, unaware that without his gaze, the universe was plunged into darkness. To restore the balance, she transformed into her radiant golden form, Mahagauri, bringing light back to the cosmos.

Radha

The eternal beloved, embodiment of devotion

Domain: Divine love, spiritual longing, union with the divine

Symbolism: Lotus for purity of heart, veil for modesty, pastoral settings for the soul’s journey, and her inseparable connection to Krishna as the soul is to a deity

Appearance: Radha’s beauty is the kind that pulls at the heart — not through grandeur, but through the quiet ache of longing. Her skin is luminous, her eyes large and dark, holding both joy and the weight of separation. She wears a flowing lehenga in deep crimson or midnight blue, adorned with golden embroidery that catches the sun. A long veil frames her face, shifting with the breeze as she moves through the meadows of the town of Vrindavan.

In art, she’s almost always shown glancing toward Krishna, her posture poised between approach and retreat. Her hands may cradle a garland of fresh jasmine meant for him, or a pot of butter she will let disappear into his thieving hands. The landscape around her — the river Yamuna, the blossoming kadamba trees — seems to bend subtly toward her, as if drawn to the devotion she radiates.

Mount/Vahana: None. Radha moves through the pastoral world on foot, walking the same cow-trodden paths as Krishna, her presence transforming the fields and forests into sacred space.

Mythological role: Radha’s love for Krishna is the gold standard of devotion in Hinduism — selfless, unbound by social convention and beyond the reach of time. Though she’s not mentioned in the earliest scriptures, later devotional literature, especially in the Bhagavata Purana and the poetry of Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda, elevates her to demigod status. She’s the human soul (jivatma) yearning for reunion with the supreme soul (paramatma), her longing for Krishna standing in for humanity’s longing for the divine. 

Their relationship is one of pure connection. Even when separated, Radha feels Krishna’s presence in every breath, and her yearning is considered even more powerful than the joy of union — for it keeps the heart in constant remembrance of the beloved.

Consort and family: Beloved of Krishna; often depicted as his spiritual counterpart rather than a worldly consort

Associated festivals: Rasa Lila reenactments during Holi and Janmashtami; Radhashtami, celebrating her birth

Worship and significance: Radha is worshipped alongside Krishna in many temples, especially in the Gaudiya Vaishnava tradition, where she’s revered as the source of Krishna’s joy. Devotees seek her grace to cultivate pure, unconditional love for the divine.

Fascinating fact: In some traditions, Radha is considered an incarnation of Lakshmi, born to be Krishna’s eternal companion. Her name is often invoked first in chants — “Radhe Krishna” — as if to approach the beloved through the one who knows him best.

Rama

The noble prince, upholder of dharma, the right way of living 

Domain: Virtue, moral duty, justice, kingship, protection of the righteous

Symbolism: Bow and arrow for readiness and skill in battle, blue skin for divine origin, simple yet regal garments for humility in leadership

Appearance: Rama stands with the quiet authority of a man who knows his strength and has no need to boast. His skin is the rich blue of a twilight sky, his posture upright and composed. He wears a golden crown that catches the sun, yet his garments are simple — the saffron robes of an exile rather than the ornate silks of a king. Across his shoulder rests a quiver of arrows, and in his hand, his bow is always ready, a natural extension of himself rather than an ornament.

His expression is calm, even in the face of war. There’s a gentleness in his gaze that belies the steel in his resolve — a leader whose strength lies as much in compassion as in martial skill. In art, he is often shown alongside Sita, Lakshmana and Hanuman, forming the ideal vision of a harmonious household and righteous rule.

Mount/Vahana: Rama has no permanent animal mount. In the Ramayana, he travels on foot, by chariot, or with the aid of allies like Hanuman. His lack of a vahana underscores his humanity — the idea that righteousness and divine purpose can be lived out in the mortal world without supernatural crutches.

Mythological role: Rama’s life is told in the epic Ramayana, where he is born as the prince of Ayodhya, the seventh avatar of Vishnu, sent to destroy the demon king Ravana. When his stepmother’s scheming leads to his exile, he accepts the decree without anger, honoring his father’s word above his own comfort. For 14 years, he roams the forests with Sita and his younger brother, Lakshmana, defending sages and villages from demons.

The defining trial of his life comes when Sita is abducted by Ravana. With the help of Hanuman and an army of vanaras (monkey warriors), Rama wages war on the island kingdom of Lanka, eventually killing Ravana and restoring order. His reign after returning to Ayodhya is remembered as Rama Rajya — an era of justice, peace and prosperity.

Consort and family: Husband of Sita, brother to Lakshmana, Bharata and Shatrughna. Son of King Dasharatha and Queen Kaushalya

Associated festivals: Rama Navami (his birth), Diwali (marking his return to Ayodhya

Worship and significance: Rama is revered as the perfect man — a warrior without cruelty, a ruler without arrogance, a husband without neglect. Devotees seek his blessing for moral clarity and the strength to act in accordance with dharma, even when it is costly.

Fascinating fact: In some folk retellings, Rama’s bow was so powerful that only he could lift it — he proved his worth to marry Sita by stringing it with effortless grace, a feat no other suitor could manage.

Saraswati

The serene muse, goddess of wisdom, music and the arts

Domain: Knowledge, learning, speech, music, poetry, truth

Symbolism: Veena (lute) for harmony and creativity, white lotus for purity of mind, flowing river for the unending stream of wisdom, swan for discernment

Appearance: Saraswati is the embodiment of clarity and calm — a vision in white, untouched by the dust of greed or the heat of passion. Her skin is pale and luminous, her long hair flowing like dark silk down her back. She wears a simple white sari with a golden border, the fabric so light it moves like water when she shifts. A garland of fresh jasmine hangs around her neck, and her forehead is marked with the tilak of concentration.

In her hands, she cradles the veena, each note she plays carrying the resonance of cosmic truth. A white lotus blooms beneath her feet, symbolizing the mind’s ability to rise unstained from the muddy waters of ignorance. Behind her, the gentle current of a river often winds through the scene — a reminder of her origin as the goddess of the Saraswati River, whose sacred waters nourished the Vedic civilization.

Mount/Vahana: Swan (hamsa), representing the ability to separate truth from falsehood. In some depictions, she rides a graceful peacock, whose beauty is balanced by its vigilance against snakes — a metaphor for guarding wisdom against corruption.

Mythological role: Saraswati is said to have been present at creation itself, when Brahma called upon her to bring order to the chaos. With her wisdom, she gave names to all things, creating speech and language. She is the inspiration behind poetry, the patron of scholars, and the divine voice that flows through musicians’ hands.

Her presence is subtle yet essential — in mythology, gods and mortals alike call upon her before embarking on intellectual or creative endeavors. Without Saraswati, knowledge remains dormant; with her, it becomes luminous and transformative.

Consort and family: In some traditions, consort of Brahma; in others, she stands alone as an independent force. 

Associated festivals: Vasant Panchami, when devotees dress in yellow, offer her flowers, and keep books and instruments before her image for blessing

Worship and significance: Students, artists and seekers of truth invoke her for clarity of mind and eloquence of speech. Unlike deities who grant material boons, Saraswati bestows treasures that cannot be spent — the kind that grow the more they are shared.

Fascinating fact: It’s considered inauspicious to ask Saraswati for wealth, as she is believed to leave when greed enters. In some households, her image is kept in a quiet corner, away from noisy celebration, to honor her preference for peaceful contemplation.

Shiva

The great ascetic, destroyer of illusions, lord of transformation

Domain: Destruction (as renewal), transformation, meditation, time, cosmic balance

Symbolism: Trident (trishula) for the three aspects of existence (creation, preservation, destruction), crescent moon for mastery over time, serpent for fearlessness, river Ganga flowing from his hair for life-giving power, drum (damaru) for the cosmic sound of creation

Appearance: Shiva’s presence is both serene and terrifying — the stillness of a mountain and the force of a storm. His skin is the cool ash-gray of cremation grounds, reminding all that life is temporary and death only a doorway. His hair is long and matted into jata dreads, coiled high upon his head to cradle the Ganga as it flows down from the heavens. A crescent moon glints among his locks, its silver light softening the fire of his third eye.

Around his neck rests a coiled cobra, unmoving, its forked tongue tasting the air — a symbol of Shiva’s mastery over fear and death. His eyes, when open, seem to look through lifetimes; when closed, they turn inward, diving into the infinite void. He wears a tiger skin around his waist, signifying his victory over animal instincts, and rudraksha beads for spiritual focus. In his hand, the trident gleams like lightning, and at his side the damaru beats out the rhythm to which the universe dances.

In his most iconic form, Shiva appears as Nataraja, the Lord of the Dance. With one leg lifted in a graceful arc and the other pressing down on the dwarf of ignorance, Apasmara, Shiva performs the tandava — the cosmic dance of creation, preservation and destruction. In his four arms he has fire, the damaru drum, a gesture of protection, and a hand pointing to his raised foot, offering liberation. Encircled by a halo of flames, Nataraja is a vision of the universe in motion: every heartbeat, every birth and every dissolution bound together in a rhythm that never ceases.

Mount/Vahana: Nandi, the white bull — a symbol of strength, virility and unwavering devotion. Nandi is Shiva’s constant companion, often depicted kneeling in reverence, facing the entrance of Shiva’s temples.

Mythological role: Shiva is one-third of the Hindu Trimurti, alongside Brahma the creator and Vishnu the preserver. His role as destroyer is often misunderstood; he ends cycles so new ones can begin, clearing away stagnation. He’s the patron of ascetics, yogis and those who seek truth beyond illusion.

His stories are as varied as they are powerful: swallowing the deadly poison (halahala) churned from the cosmic ocean to save creation — the act that turned his throat blue and earned him the name Neelkanth; unleashing his third eye to burn desire to ashes; dancing the Tandava, a cosmic performance that both creates and destroys worlds.

Consort and family: Husband of Parvati; father of Ganesha and Kartikeya

Associated festivals: Maha Shivaratri, when devotees fast, chant and keep vigil through the night in his honor.

Worship and significance: Shiva is worshipped in the form of the lingam, a phallic symbol of divine energy and creative potential. Devotees seek his blessing for liberation from worldly attachments and the courage to face transformation.

Fascinating fact: In many villages, Shiva is considered the most approachable of the great gods — Bholenath, the simple lord — quick to grant blessings to anyone who approaches him with sincerity, regardless of status or ritual precision.

Shukra

The teacher of demons, master of resurrection

Domain: Wealth, pleasure, diplomacy, resurrection, the planet Venus

Symbolism: The staff for wisdom, the water pot for life-giving knowledge, Venus for beauty and prosperity

Appearance: Shukra’s presence is calm yet commanding, with skin like polished sandalwood and eyes that gleam with patient intelligence. His white beard and flowing hair mark the wisdom of ages, while his garments shimmer with the soft sheen of silver — the light of Venus caught in fabric. In one hand he holds a danda (staff), in the other a kamandalu (water vessel) said to carry the sacred nectar of life itself.

Mount/Vahana: Often depicted seated on a white horse or in a chariot drawn by eight horses, each representing a different aspect of worldly desire.

Mythological role: Shukra serves as the guru to the asuras (often translated as “demons”), guiding them with cunning strategy and unmatched knowledge of the cosmos. His most prized possession is the Sanjivani Vidya, the secret art of reviving the dead — a gift from Shiva after intense penance. This power has tipped the scales in many battles, forcing the devas (gods) to find new ways to win. Despite his loyalty to the asuras, Shukra is also revered by humans seeking prosperity, charm and the ability to turn rivals into allies.

Consort and family: Married to Jayanti, daughter of Indra; father of Devayani, whose own stories weave through the Mahabharata

Associated festivals: Shukravar (Fridays), dedicated to Venus, are considered auspicious for his worship. 

Worship and significance: Followers seek Shukra’s blessing for wealth, harmonious relationships and diplomatic skill — but also for protection against enemies, knowing his allegiance to the asuras makes him an expert in countering adversaries.

Fascinating fact: In astrology, Shukra is linked to artistic talent and sensual pleasures; those under his favor are said to possess irresistible charm and an eye for beauty.

Sita

The steadfast queen, born of the earth and emblem of virtue

Domain: Purity, devotion, courage, self-sacrifice, the ideal of righteous womanhood

Symbolism: Lotus for grace and spiritual beauty, the Earth as her mother, fire as a test of truth, her role as Rama’s equal in love and suffering

Appearance: Sita’s beauty is quiet but unshakable — the kind that deepens the longer you look. Her skin carries the glow of fresh earth after rain, and her eyes, large and steady, hold both tenderness and the weight of trials endured. She wears silks in shades of gold and crimson, with a long veil that frames her face and flows down her back like a stream of sunlight. Jewels gleam lightly at her wrists and neck, never ostentatious, as if she wears them more from tradition than vanity.

In art, she is often shown beside Rama, her posture dignified but never submissive — her head high, her gaze calm. In exile, she appears barefoot among the forest trees, her sari plain, her only ornaments the garlands of flowers she strings with her own hands.

Mount/Vahana: None. Sita’s journeys are always made on foot or by chariot, sharing the same path as her companions. Her lack of a mount reflects her role as an equal partner in hardship rather than a divine figure set apart from mortal trials.

Mythological role: Sita’s life is told in the Ramayana. Found as an infant in a furrow while King Janaka was plowing the fields, she is said to be the daughter of Bhumi Devi, the Earth goddess herself. She grows to marry Rama after he wins her hand by stringing the great bow of Shiva — a feat no other suitor could accomplish.

Her devotion to Rama is absolute: When he’s exiled to the forest for 14 years, she insists on joining him, trading palace comforts for the rigors of wilderness. Her greatest trial comes when she’s abducted by the demon Ravana and held captive in Lanka. Despite months of pressure, she remains unshaken in her loyalty, her only comfort the hope of Rama’s arrival.

After her rescue, she endures the Agni Pariksha, the trial by fire, to prove her purity. In later life, when her character is doubted once more, she chooses to return to the embrace of her mother, the Earth, which parts to receive her — a final act of dignity and self-possession.

Consort and family: Wife of Rama, daughter of King Janaka and Queen Sunaina

Associated festivals: Sita Navami, celebrated especially in Mithila, her birthplace.

Worship and significance: Sita is revered as the ideal of marital devotion, but also as a figure of resilience and moral strength. She embodies the idea that true virtue remains intact, even in the face of injustice.

Fascinating fact: In some folk traditions, Sita is worshipped as an incarnation of Lakshmi, born to accompany Vishnu’s avatar Rama in his earthly mission — making her both queen and goddess.

Vishnu

The preserver and protector of cosmic order

Domain: Preservation, protection of dharma, restoration of balance, compassion

Symbolism: Conch (shankha) for the sound of creation, discus (chakra) for the mind’s sharpness and the destruction of evil, mace (gada) for strength, lotus (padma) for purity rising from the world’s chaos

Appearance: Vishnu’s form is majestic yet serene — the steady, unshakable center of the universe. His skin is the rich blue of the deepest ocean, his eyes calm pools that seem to hold the reflection of the cosmos itself. He’s adorned in golden silk garments and an abundance of jewels — armlets, necklaces, a crown studded with rare gems — yet nothing about him feels over the top. It’s as if the wealth of creation naturally rests upon him.

In his four hands, he holds his eternal emblems: the lotus, delicate and alive; the mace, heavy with power; the discus, spinning and radiant like a miniature sun; and the conch, ready to sound the victory of righteousness. His posture is relaxed but alert, the quiet readiness of a ruler who acts when the time is right.

Mount/Vahana: Garuda, the mighty eagle, with a wingspan that can blot out the sun. Garuda’s golden feathers flash like lightning as he soars, carrying Vishnu effortlessly across the three worlds: the heavens, the Earth and the underworld. He’s both mount and ally, a living embodiment of speed, loyalty and fearlessness.

Mythological role: Vishnu is the preserver of the Hindu Trimurti, standing alongside Brahma the creator and Shiva the destroyer. His duty is to maintain cosmic balance, stepping into the world whenever evil threatens to overwhelm good. To do this, he takes on avatars — earthly incarnations — to set things right. These include Rama, the noble prince; Krishna, the divine lover and strategist; Narasimha, the man-lion who burst from a pillar to save his devotee; and many others.

When not incarnated, Vishnu rests upon the infinite serpent Ananta (Shesha), floating on the cosmic ocean. From his navel grows the lotus that births Brahma, showing that preservation isn’t separate from creation but intertwined with it.

Consort and family: Married to Lakshmi, goddess of wealth and prosperity, who accompanies him in each of his avatars

Associated festivals: Vaikuntha Ekadashi, Janmashtami (for Krishna), Rama Navami (for Rama)

Worship and significance: Vishnu is worshipped across India in many forms, from the grandeur of temple idols to the small household shrines where his avatars are honored. Devotees seek him for protection, moral clarity, and the assurance that no matter how dark the times, the preserver will arrive.

Fascinating fact: Vishnu’s discus, the Sudarshana Chakra, is said to move at the speed of thought and can cut through anything — but it only strikes when guided by righteousness, never in anger or vanity. –Wally

---

OH MY GODS!

Major Gods of Ancient Egypt

Gods of the Old Testament 

The Witch’s Guide to the Equinox: The Power of Balance at Mabon and Ostara

Discover how to use the Autumn and Spring Equinoxes in your Wicca practice with rituals, symbolism and spells.

There’s an undeniable magic to the equinox. The sun doesn’t linger, and the shadows don’t fight for dominance. For one breath-held moment, they simply coexist. The world feels balanced.

Witches, pagans and stargazers alike have long marked this moment. Twice a year, day and night are in perfect equilibrium — neither winning, neither waning. It’s a rare kind of symmetry in a world that’s always one way or another.

The equinox is nature’s mirror. Whether you’re gathering what’s grown at Mabon or sowing what’s possible at Ostara, you’re standing at a point of balance — not static, but shifting. It’s a moment to notice what’s reflected back at you … and decide what belongs in the next season.

In the Greek myth, Hades abducts Persephone as she gathers flowers, spiriting her away to the land of the dead — a moment that marks the mythic turn from light to dark. The goddess of spring becomes Queen of the Underworld.

What Is an Equinox, Exactly? 

The word equinox comes from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night), and it refers to the two points in the year when the sun crosses the celestial equator. On these two days — typically around March 20 and September 22 — we experience nearly equal amounts of daylight and darkness, no matter where we live on Earth.

Think of it as a cosmic balancing act — a time when the tilt of the Earth gives everyone a moment of stillness before tipping toward longer nights (Mabon) or longer days (Ostara).

Ancient cultures noticed.

• The Maya built temples like Chichén Itzá, where on the equinox, sunlight casts a serpent-like shadow that slithers down the pyramid’s steps — a dazzling tribute to the god Kukulkan.

• The Greeks saw this season as the time when Persephone descended into the Underworld, tipping the world toward darkness and marking the start of autumn.

• For Druids, the momentary balance between light and dark was more than symbolic; it was a spiritual threshold, when the veil between worlds thinned and subtle energies stirred.

So why do modern witches and pagans care about equinoxes?

Because balance is everything in magic.

The equinox invites you to stand in between two forces — light and shadow, growth and decay, action and rest — and find where you belong in that moment. It’s a sacred mirror for your own life’s rhythm.

Whether you’re closing a chapter or opening a new one, this is the time to ask:

• What am I growing?

• What am I releasing?

• What needs to come into balance?

What Equinox Energy Feels Like

There’s a quiet ache to the equinox — like standing at the threshold of a door you’re not quite ready to close, or opening one you’re not sure you deserve to walk through yet. It’s the tension of opposites, held not in conflict, but in coexistence.

This energy isn’t loud. It hums.

It invites reflection, not reaction.

Whether you’re in the golden hush of Mabon or the dew-sparkled stirrings of Ostara, the equinox is that sacred in-between where transformation happens. Think crossroads, dusk, dawn, the last leaf before the tree goes bare. That’s equinox energy: a spell of stillness before the turn.

Some witches use this time to:

• Do shadow work (for Mabon) or intention setting (for Ostara)

• Reorganize altars to reflect both sun and moon energy

• Meditate with balance-themed tarot cards like Temperance, Justice or The Two of Pentacles

• Perform rituals that honor duality: life and death, inner and outer, giving and receiving

This is a sacred pause in the wheel — the fulcrum where the year pivots. Don’t rush it. Feel it.

Equinox Themes to Explore in Your Practice

The equinox is nature’s reminder that we’re never just one thing. We’re always becoming — shedding and growing, grieving and hoping, ending and beginning. Use this moment to align your practice with that energy of both/and rather than either/or.

Here are some core themes to work with:

1. Balance and duality

The obvious one — but also the most personal. What areas of your life feel lopsided? What would it feel like to give your joy and your grief equal space at the altar?

Ideas:

• Do a two-column journal exercise (Light / Shadow, Give / Receive)

• Meditate on the Justice or Temperance tarot cards

• Create a visual altar with half sun, half moon symbolism

2. Shadow and light

This is the season of facing contradictions. At Mabon, the light is fading — you may feel a pull toward introspection, shadow work and letting go. At Ostara, light returns — bringing clarity, confidence and growth.

Ideas:

• Light a candle and speak aloud one thing you’re releasing, one thing you’re embracing

• Work with herbs that straddle light and dark, like mugwort or rosemary

• Create an herbal sachet with both stimulating and calming properties

3. Harvest and seeding

If it’s Mabon, the second harvest is here — a time to gather, give thanks and prepare to rest.

If it’s Ostara, it’s all about preparing the soil for the bounty to come.

Ideas:

• Write a gratitude list for everything you’ve “harvested” this year (lessons count!)

• Do a seed planting ritual for a new project or intention

• Bake bread or cook with seasonal produce as a sacred act

4. Thresholds and transitions

The equinox is a hinge — a pause in the wheel. Honor that stillness. Embrace that liminal magic.

Ideas:

• Craft a charm bag for safe passage through change

• Take a solitary walk at sunrise or sunset and listen for signs

• Perform a cleansing ritual or floor wash to mark a new beginning

Wicca Rituals for Equinox Magic

The equinox isn’t about big dramatic gestures. It’s about the subtle magic of recalibration — aligning yourself with the rhythms of the Earth and asking, What do I need to feel whole right now?

These simple rituals are designed to help you honor the season, balance and your own inner turning.

Mabon Rituals for the Autumn Equinox, the Second Harvest

1. The Gratitude Altar

Gather apples, acorns, corn husks, dried herbs and anything that represents abundance in your life. Arrange them on your altar, and as you place each item, say aloud one thing you’re thankful for — no matter how small.

Bonus: Write each one on a bay leaf and burn them in a fire-safe dish or cauldron to send your thanks skyward.

2. Letting Go Fire Spell

Write down what you’re ready to release: habits, fears, bitterness. Fold the paper and place it beneath a black or brown candle. As it burns, whisper:

“As the sun wanes and leaves fall low,
I thank, I bless, I let it go.”

3. Sip the Season

Make a spiced cider, tea or wine. Stir in your intentions with cinnamon or star anise. As you sip, visualize warmth radiating from your center, grounding you for the darker months ahead.

Ostara Rituals for the Spring Equinox, the Season of Renewal

1. Seed Blessing

Take seeds (flowers, herbs or even just intentions written on paper). Hold them in your hands, breathe on them, and say:

“In fertile earth, I plant my will.
With sun and rain, I grow until
My dreams take root and rise anew —
As spring begins, so shall I, too.”

Plant them in soil — or in a small pot to nurture on your windowsill.

2. Sunrise Candle Spell

Wake early and light a white or pale yellow candle at sunrise. As the light grows, reflect on what’s coming to life in your own world. Whisper an affirmation with the first rays:

“With this light, I rise again.
Bright beginnings, banish pain.”

3. Equinox Egg Magic

Decorate eggs with symbols of your hopes and intentions. Bury them in the earth or crack them into compost to “feed” your magic into the world.

Tools, Herbs and Symbols of the Equinox

Every witch knows that magic isn’t just in what you do; it’s in what you surround yourself with. The equinox invites you to work with items that embody balance, duality and seasonal shift. Whether you’re decorating your altar or crafting a spell, here’s what to reach for.

Crystals

Each of these stones balances opposing energies or helps you tune into the seasonal transition.

• Labradorite: For embracing change and connecting with the magic between worlds

• Citrine: Sunlight in solid form; promotes joy and confidence

• Smoky quartz: Grounding, releasing, shadow-friendly

• Moonstone: Especially for Ostara; honors intuition and cyclical energy

• Obsidian: Especially for Mabon; helps surface buried truths

Place two on your altar — one for light, one for shadow — to physically embody balance.

Herbs and Foods

These herbs reflect both the season’s energy and the magical intentions tied to it.

For Mabon:

• Rosemary: Memory, cleansing, protection

• Mugwort: Dreamwork, thresholds, seeing beyond

• Marigold: Protection and gratitude

• Thyme: Courage to release and transition

• Apples: Symbol of knowledge, love and the harvest (cut one crosswise to reveal the pentacle)

For Ostara:

• Lavender: Clarity, calm and gentle growth

• Nettle: Protection, transformation

• Dandelion: Resilience and sunlight energy

• Mint: Fresh starts and mental clarity

• Eggshells: Crushed for warding and blessing soil

Brew into teas, burn as incense or scatter around your altar.

Colors

Think of your altar or ritual setup as a visual spell.

Mabon:

• Deep red, burnt orange, gold, brown, plum

Ostara:

• Pale green, pastel pink, cream, robin’s egg blue, yellow

Mix warm and cool tones to evoke the sense of transition and balance.

Symbols and Objects

Simple items you likely already have can carry rich meaning.

• Eggs: Fertility, potential, the mystery of beginnings (Ostara)

• Scales or balance symbols: Literal or metaphorical

• Fallen leaves or fresh flowers: Seasonal anchoring

• Sun and moon imagery: Perfect visual shorthand for the equinox

• Mirror: Self-reflection, shadow work, duality

Pro tip: For an easy equinox altar, use a mirror as your base, place a candle at the center, and arrange light/dark objects symmetrically.

---

All of these are suggestions. Let your practice be personal, intuitive and playful. You’re not trying to copy someone else’s ritual. You’re writing your own spellbook, one equinox at a time.

Equinox Spells for Balance and Renewal

These spells are written in rhyme — not just for beauty, but because rhythm makes magic easier to remember and recite. Speak them with intention, and let the words ripple out like a charm on the wind.

Mabon Spell: Letting Go and Giving Thanks

“Leaves fall low, the sun bows down,
The harvest ends in golden crown.
I give my thanks, I bless the past,
And set down burdens I held fast.

Dark and light in balance meet —
I stand with shadows at my feet.
What’s done is done; what’s mine, remains.
I open space for gentler gains.”

Speak this while lighting a candle and placing offerings on your altar — such as dried herbs, bay leaves or fruit. 

You can also whisper it during a walk through autumn woods as you scatter a handful of fallen leaves.

Ostara Spell: Planting Seeds of Intention

“Bright the bud, and bold the breeze,
Awake the roots, unbind the freeze.
With open hands and heart in bloom,
I stir the light, dispel the gloom.

Let what’s hidden start to grow,
From dream to leaf, from spark to glow.
In egg and soil my wishes lie,
To rise and bloom beneath spring’s sky.”

Use this while planting seeds or charging symbolic ones (paper, intentions, charms). Light a white or yellow candle and recite the spell while holding the seed or token in your palm.

Equal Parts Magic and Meaning

The equinox is the hush before the shift, the breath between words, the sacred pause that says, You can begin again.

Whether you’ve filled your altar with apples or planted your first spring seeds, this turning of the wheel invites you to stop and listen — to the Earth, to your spirit, to the balance you crave and the imbalance you’re ready to face.

Honor the balance. Gather what’s ripe, and set in motion what you most desire. –Wally

Jesus the Radical

Meet the Jesus you weren’t taught in Sunday school. How Christ’s message defied norms and continues to be misunderstood. 

If you grew up with a sanitized, polite version of Jesus — the one who smiled at children, patted sheep on the head, and delivered motivational speeches about kindness — you were misled. 

The real Jesus was a troublemaker, a rule-breaker, and a threat to religious and political elites. He was a man who told his followers to abandon their families, rebuked the religious authorities of his day, and welcomed women, tax collectors and sinners into his inner circle. He preached radical nonviolence while shaking up every power structure around him. And yet, modern Christianity has often sanitized him, turning a revolutionary into a figurehead for power-hungry, greedy, corrupt and close-minded institutions he surely would have condemned.

So, what did Jesus actually teach? And how has he been completely misunderstood? Let’s start with the ways he upended everything people thought they knew about God, religion and power.

How Jesus Was a Radical

He tore down religious authority.  

Jesus didn’t uphold the religious establishment. He wanted to dismantle it.

The Pharisees and Sadducees — the religious gatekeepers of his time — were obsessed with rules, from Sabbath restrictions to purity laws. Jesus? He ignored them. He healed people on the Sabbath (Mark 3:1-6), touched lepers, and even ate with “unclean” sinners. But he didn’t stop there: He actively attacked their authority, calling them “blind guides” and “hypocrites” (Matthew 23:13-24).

Perhaps the most blatant act of defiance came when he stormed into the Temple, flipped over tables, and drove out money changers with a whip (John 2:13-16). That was an assault on the entire system of religious corruption that profited from people’s faith. No wonder they wanted him dead.

He rejected earthly power (and made Rome nervous). 

The Jewish people were expecting a military messiah — someone to overthrow the Roman Empire and restore Israel’s glory. Instead, they got a man who rode into town on a donkey — yes, a humble beast, but also a deliberate nod to prophecy. Their savior wasn’t a warrior, though; he told people to “turn the other cheek” (Matthew 5:39) and “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). What a letdown.

Jesus’ entire Kingdom of God message was subversive because it challenged both Rome and Jewish leadership. When people tried to trap him by asking if they should pay taxes, Jesus delivered his famous line: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s” (Mark 12:17). It wasn’t just a clever dodge; it was a denial of Rome’s ultimate authority. His kingdom wasn’t built on armies and taxes, but on justice, mercy and radical love. That made him a political liability.

He told people to abandon their families. 

This one rarely makes it into the warm-and-fuzzy Jesus narrative. Jesus wasn’t about family values — at least, not in the traditional sense.

He explicitly told people to leave their families behind if they wanted to follow him:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters — yes, even their own life — such a person cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26)

Hate your parents? That’s… extreme. But Jesus wasn’t advocating literal hatred; he was saying that loyalty to God’s kingdom had to come first, even before family obligations. In a society where family was everything, this was shockingly countercultural.

And when someone told him, “Hey, I’ll follow you, but first let me go bury my father,” Jesus replied, “Let the dead bury their own dead” (Luke 9:60). Translation: No excuses. This mission is urgent. Of course he did think the end times were going to happen within his lifetime. 

He elevated women in a society that saw them as inferior. 

Women in first-century Judea weren’t exactly treated as equals. They couldn’t testify in court, they were largely excluded from religious leadership, and they were often considered property. Yet Jesus shattered these norms.

• He taught women as disciples (Luke 10:38-42), something unheard of for a Jewish rabbi.

• He defended a woman caught in adultery from being stoned, challenging a law everyone accepted (John 8:1-11).

• He spoke to a Samaritan woman at a well (John 4:7-26), ignoring racial, gender and religious taboos in one go.

• Mary Magdalene, not Peter nor any other male disciple, was the first to witness and proclaim his resurrection (John 20:11-18).

In a culture where a woman’s testimony was considered worthless, Jesus entrusted the most important message in Christian history to a woman. If that’s not radical, what is?

How Jesus Is Misunderstood Today

He wasn’t a champion of organized religion. 

Ironically, many churches today function like the Pharisees — obsessed with rules, hierarchy and institutional power. But Jesus was against organized religion; he was about tearing down barriers between people and God.

When he said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27), he was dismantling the idea that religious rituals were more important than people. Today, some Christian institutions do the opposite — using doctrine to exclude, judge or control.

Jesus’ kingdom wasn’t about political power. 

Some modern groups try to hijack Jesus for political agendas — whether it’s nationalism, capitalism or theocracy. But Jesus never sought earthly power. He said, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36), which means he wasn’t interested in ruling governments.

Any time Jesus is used to justify violence, nationalism or oppression, we’ve strayed far from his teachings.

Christianity has made Jesus more about rules than love. 

Jesus didn’t say, Follow these 613 laws and you’ll be saved. He said, Love God and love your neighbor — that’s the whole deal (Matthew 22:37-40). But over time, his message got lost in a maze of rules, shame and endless theological debates about who’s in and who’s out.

The irony? Jesus spent most of his time calling out religious folks for their obsession with rules while embracing the most marginalized people in society.

Reclaiming the Radical Jesus

The real Jesus wasn’t a goody-goody figurehead of religion — he was a revolutionary who upended the status quo. He was killed precisely because he was a threat to those holding religious and political power.

Those who follow him should reject the sanitized, institutionalized version of Jesus and embrace the radical, table-flipping, rule-breaking teacher who challenged authority, welcomed the outcasts, and preached a love so dangerous it got him executed.

So the question is: Are we following the real Jesus, or just a comfortable version of him? –Wally

The First Homosexuals at Wrightwood 659: Rewriting Art History With a Queer Lens

This powerful global exhibition traces the emergence of queer identity through more than 300 artworks — at a time when LGBTQ+ visibility matters more than ever.

Peace 1 by Zhang Huan, 2001

When Wally and I heard about The First Homosexuals: The Birth of a New Identity, 1869–1939 at Wrightwood 659, we were immediately intrigued. We had missed the first iteration, which ran in 2022. This new presentation promised to be larger in scale, and suggested something truly ambitious — a visual journey recontextualizing art history by presenting a wide range of works through a queer lens. 

This exhibition is especially important because it comes at a perilous time when LGBTQ+ voices are increasingly under attack across political and cultural spheres. In the face of bans, restrictions on school curricula, and renewed efforts to limit or erase queer visibility, The First Homosexuals reclaims that space by affirming that queer identity has an enduring, complex and creative legacy. 

““The First Homosexuals” is especially important because it comes at a perilous time when LGBTQ+ voices are increasingly under attack across political and cultural spheres. ”

I was reminded of Masculin/Masculin, a provocative exhibition Wally and I saw at the Musée d’Orsay in 2013. Drawing primarily from European painting and sculpture, the show turned the traditional male gaze on its head — shifting the focus from the female form, so often idealized in art, to the male nude. By presenting works from 1800 to the early aughts, the show invited viewers to reconsider the male body, not just as a symbol of strength or virility but as an object of desire.

While Masculin/Masculin traced the idealization of the male body in European art, it didn’t place those depictions within the broader context of queer history. The First Homosexuals at Wrightwood 659 takes that next step, expanding the lens across five continents and inviting viewers to consider queerness as something shaped by history, society and culture — often coded, but always present. 

The First Homosexuals included more than 300 works by 125 queer artists from 40 countries.

Its point of departure is 1869, when Karl-Maria Kertbeny, an Austrian-Hungarian writer and activist, introduced the term “homosexual” anonymously in a German pamphlet advocating reform of Prussian sodomy laws — a linguistic turning point that shifted same-sex love from act to identity. 

You’ll definitely need to book ahead (and book early) when you see a show at Wrightwood 659.

Our Arrival at Wrightwood 659 in Lincoln Park

After breakfast at one of our favorite spots, the Bourgeois Pig, Wally and I strolled up the leafy stretch of Wrightwood Avenue in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. We were surprised to find a modest four-story red brick façade at 659. But the small group forming outside and a sign promoting the exhibition reassured us that we were in the right place.

The modern concrete building attached to the exhibit space is actually the home of one of the cofounders of Wrightwood 659.

I initially assumed the gallery’s entrance was through the modern concrete cube next door — but that was actually the private residence of media entrepreneur and philanthropist Fred Eychaner and his husband, Danny Leung. Eychaner is the founder of the Alphawood Foundation, a charitable organization, and cofounder of Wrightwood 659.

Inside, a docent greeted us in the light-filled atrium and explained that the building was constructed in the 1920s as an apartment complex. Despite its external appearance, the interiors have been stripped and radically reimagined by Japanese architect Tadao Ando.

A historic apartment building was reimagined as a striking modern art gallery.

Architect Tadao Ando transformed the interior with his minimalist design.

We stood in awe of the space’s understated tranquility. Ando preserved the outer walls, which are clad in irregular, weathered Chicago common brick, an earthy contrast to the interior’s sleek geometric simplicity. 

In the far corner, an Escher-like concrete staircase begins its ascent. More than just a functional connector between levels, it serves as a kind of contemplative path, guiding visitors upward in a calm, deliberate rhythm. It’s a signature Ando gesture: structure becoming experience, architecture becoming journey.

Dance to the Berdash by George Catlin, 1837

Before the Binary: Origins of Queerness

The exhibition unfolds gradually across three floors and eight thematic sections, beginning with “Before the Binary.” This gallery sets the stage for the installation’s sweeping journey, inviting viewers to reconsider how same-sex love and gender diversity have been expressed and celebrated throughout history, long before  queer identity emerged in the form we recognize today.

Prior to the subjugation brought by European colonization, many non-Western cultures regarded same-sex behavior as a fluid part of life rather than a fixed identity. This changed dramatically with the arrival of colonial powers, who introduced prejudices and legal systems and cultural prejudices that criminalized same-sex relationships. Along with this intolerance came a new binary: homosexual and heterosexual — categories rooted in 19th century European science and psychology. These labels spread globally reshaping how people understood desire, identity and themselves.

George Catlin’s painting, Dance to the Berdash, depicts a ceremonial dance performed by the Sac and Fox Nation honoring a “two-spirit” individual. The term berdache, used by Catlin, is an outdated and derogatory French term historically applied to two-spirit people. 

In his journals, Catlin describes the scene as “very funny and amusing,” and expresses bewilderment where a “man dressed in woman’s clothes … driven to the most servile and degrading duties” would be celebrated and “looked upon as medicine and sacred.”

Despite his evident bias, Catlin’s work offers a rare glimpse into the deeply spiritual and cultural roles that two-spirit or third-gender individuals have historically held in many Native American communities.

Portrait of Chevalier d'Eon by Jean Condé, published by John Sewell in a 1791 issue of The European Magazine

The Chevalière or Chevalier d’Éon (1728-1810), was an early gender-nonconforming figure and a French diplomat, spy and soldier. 

In 1755, while presenting as a man, d’Éon was sent to Russia disguised as Mademoiselle Lia de Beaumont to persuade Empress Elizabeth I of Russia to ally with France against England and Prussia. From 1777 onward, d’Eon lived publicly as a woman and was officially recognized as such by King Louis XVI.

In this print, d’Éon is portrayed as a middle-aged woman wearing a dark dress with a chemisette, a lace cap and the star of the Order of St. Louis, an honor awarded for distinguished military service and espionage.

As evidence of the shifting political and cultural landscape of the era, d’Éon spent much of her adult life in London, where her gender identity was the subject of constant speculation. It was even the subject of a court trial declaring d’Éon to be a woman, though a surgeon later attested on her death certificate she had “male organs.”

Anacreon and Cupid by Bertel Thorvaldsen, 1824

Bertel Thorvaldsen’s neoclassical Anacreon and Cupid depicts the Ancient Greek poet Anacreon being struck by Cupid’s arrow, causing the older man to fall in love with the youthful god of love. The relief is inspired by Anacreon’s text, Ode III, which ends with Cupid flying away, satisfied he can still attract love with his arrows, while the poet is left alone with his longing. 

The term homosexual didn’t yet exist, and art about the classical past enabled the representation of same-sex eroticism under the guise of historical reference. 

The artist’s nearby ink and graphite sketch literalizes the erotic element of the sculpture, portraying Cupid fondling the poet’s groin. 

In Ancient Greece, the ideal same-sex relationship was seen as one between an older man and a teenage boy. This kind of relationship was tied to ideas about teaching the younger generation how to be good citizens. Same-sex desire was accepted — but only in ways that supported the male-dominated social system.

Portrait of Rosa Bonheur by Anna Klumpke, 1898

Portraits: Icons and Outlaws

“Portraits” features artists who dared to make homosexuality visible long before it was safe or legal to do so. 

American artist Anna Klumpke’s tender pastel portrait captures her partner, Rosa Bonheur, in the final years of the celebrated French painter’s life. The two met in 1895, when Klumpke was 39 and Bonheur was 73. They soon moved in together, and their relationship endured until Bonheur’s death in 1899.

Rosa Bonheur was one of the most renowned animal painters of the 19th century. An independent woman and openly lesbian, she famously obtained official permission from the Paris police to wear men’s clothing — a permit she justified by explaining that traditional women’s attire was impractical for working in stables and slaughterhouses, where she sketched animals for her work.

By the way, there’s a delightful bar, Rosa Bonheur, in Paris, named after this icon. 

Retrato de un Anticuario (Portrait of an Antiquarian) by Robert Montenegro, 1926

Roberto Montenegro’s 1926 portrait of antiques dealer Chucho Reyes is rich with visual codes that still resonate in queer iconography today — a limp wrist, a tilted chin and a wry smile. In the foreground, a silver ball subtly reflects the artist’s own face, a quiet but unmistakable act of self-insertion and queer affirmation.

An early figure in the Mexican muralist movement, Montenegro often pushed against the boundaries of revolutionary aesthetics. In a mural for the Secretaría de Educación Pública in Mexico City, his depiction of a nude, androgynous Saint Sebastian drew criticism for being out of step with official nationalist values. 

Montenegro was ultimately compelled to repaint it. In his private commissions, however, he enjoyed greater artistic freedom — freedom he fully embraced in this intimate and symbolically coded portrait.

Portrait of James Baldwin by Beauford Delaney, 1944

In this vibrant portrait, Beauford Delaney depicts the 20-year-old African American author James Baldwin before the writer’s rise to literary fame. Delaney renders Baldwin’s face in expressive strokes of green, yellow and purple, capturing not just likeness but inner light. The two men, both openly gay and trailblazing artists of color, shared a profound, formative bond. 

Baldwin regarded Delaney as a mentor and father figure. Reflecting on Delaney’s influence, he wrote, “The reality of his seeing caused me to begin to see.” 

Though Baldwin would become a powerful voice in the civil rights movement, his open sexuality often left him marginalized within the movement’s leadership.

He went on to become one of the most influential gay writers of the 20th century, penning such landmark works as Giovanni’s Room (1956).

Profile of a Man With Hibiscus Flower (Felíx) by Glyn Philpot, 1932 

This intimate portrait features Felíx, a French Caribbean model who sat for the British artist Glyn Philpot several times in 1932. The composition, with its flattened perspective and floral motif, recalls Paul Gauguin’s canvas Jeune Homme à la Fleur, evoking themes of sensuality and exoticism. While the painting echoes colonial-era visual tropes, Philpot’s broader oeuvre is distinguished by its empathetic and often dignified representations of Black subjects, challenging the stereotypes prevalent in early 20th century European art. 

Le Bal élégant, La Danse à la campagne (The Elegant Ball, The Country Dance) by Marie Laurencin, 1913

Relationships: Intimate Worlds

The section titled “Relationships” explores the personal and social dimensions of queer lives. From Marie Laurencin’s sensual and playful female imagery to Andreas Andersen’s portrait of his younger brother and his friend, their works reflect the sheer diversity and joy of queer intimacy. 

La Danse (The Dance) by Marie Laurencin, 1919

Marie Laurencin (1883-1956), a French Cubist, created an idiosyncratic body of work that excluded men and placed women at the center, something truly revolutionary considering that she worked in Paris, in an environment dominated by male artists. A member of Pablo Picasso’s gang, Laurencin’s unique take on Cubism is particularly evident in The Elegant Ball, The Country Dance, a fragmented and angular portrayal of two women dancing front and center. 

The canvas The Dance illustrates Laurencin’s departure from Cubism and marks the development of her own visual language, one that embraces a softer, more fluid style in which women’s bodies seem to merge and dissolve into one another. Laurencin’s dreamlike, ethereal compositions represent a feminist counterpoint to the stylistic tendencies of the male-dominated Cubist avant-garde.

Interior With Hendrik Andersen and John Briggs Potter in Florence by Andreas Anderson, 1894

The Norwegian painter Andreas Andersen depicts his younger brother, Hendrik and their friend, American painter John Briggs Potter, when the trio were living together in Florence in 1894. To our modern eyes, this is a stunning image of a homosexual relationship — but the reality is that men of this era didn’t think that loving or having sex with other men was abnormal or put them into a sexual category. 

Potter, who eventually married a woman, was close to Isabella Stuart Gardner of the eponymous Boston museum. The exact relationship between Hendrik and Potter isn’t known, though Potter was painted by a number of known queer painters and himself painted portraits of handsome men.

Sueño marinero (Sailor’s Dream) by Gregorio Prieto, 1932

Gregorio Prieto was a member of the influential Spanish cohort known as the Generation of ’27, alongside the poet

Federico García Lorca. While his work is well known in Spain, it hasn’t received the recognition it merits. 

Prieto’s two paintings exhibited at Wrightwood exemplify his use of the mannequin as a surrealist trope. Prieto employed mannequins as a metaphor for homoerotic love. Indeed, Sailor’s Dream seems to insinuate the act of oral sex, while Full Moon implies stimulation by hand.

Le Sommeil de Manon (Manon’s Sleep) by Madeleine-Jeanne Lemaire, 1907

Changing Bodies, Changing Definitions: Redefining Beauty 

The exhibit then pivots to “Changing Bodies, Changing Definitions, where we witness how the nude evolved in art in relation to shifting conceptions of sexuality. In the 19th century, artists often depicted ambiguously gendered adolescents — but by the early 20th century, those figures gave way to striking portraits of well-muscled men and women. Romaine Brooks’ androgynous nude of her female lover sits alongside Tamara de Lempika’s muscular female nude. 

The French novelist Marcel Proust and his lover, Reynaldo Hahn, referred to Madeleine-Jeanne Lemaire as Maman, or Mother, acknowledging her centrality to queer relationships and networks. Lemaire hosted a regular salon well attended by homosexuals, including Proust, Hahn and others such as Sarah Bernhardt, whose work is also featured in this exhibition.

The close-knit queer relationships that defined Lemaire’s social circle also come through in her painting. While many of her female contemporaries avoided overt eroticism, Lemaire’s Manon’s Sleep presents a nude figure who is neither orientalized nor classicized, her sensuality left unapologetically unframed by allegory or genre.

The recently discarded clothes in the left-hand corner appear to take the shape of a female figure lounging in a chair, perhaps watching the nude woman sleep. Lemaire’s soft color palette, decadent textiles and languid figure also seem to emulate Rococo aesthetics, perhaps in a nod to the genre’s own scenes of erotic subversion.

Nackte Schiffer (Fischer) und Knaben am grünen Gestade (Naked Boatmen [Fishermen] and Boys on the Green Shore by Ludwig von Hofmann, 1900

Ludwig von Hofmann enjoyed a prominent career as a painter in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. At the time, Germany — newly unified — looked to Ancient Greece as a cultural model, embracing public nudity as a sign of health, virtue and classical refinement. This free body culture (abbreviated as FKK in German) encouraged public nudity as a sign not of prurient interest, but of health and moral virtue.

Segregated from urban homosexual culture by questions of class and occupation, this image of nude boys and men, while undeniably homoerotic, works hard to de-emphasize its inherent suggestive qualities through a committed attention to labor.

Wrestlers by Thomas Eakins, 1899

Thomas Eakins, celebrated along with Winslow Homer as two of the finest 19th century American painters, here produced a study for an even bigger painting of a gymnasium featuring, among other scenes, two young men wrestling.

While depicting an actual wrestling move, the painting allows two men a moment of full-body contact that escapes inscription as homosexual. They are, moreover, curiously relaxed, even inert, in what is ostensibly a battle for dominance.

Nu Assis de Profil (Seated Nude in Profile) by Tamara de Lempicka, 1923

Tamara de Lempicka’s seated nude exists in a space of gender nonconformity, much like the artist herself. The figure’s heavily muscled body and tanned face suggest a masculine presence, perhaps shaped by outdoor labor, while the visible breast and porcelain skin point to a more traditionally feminine traits. The body is angled away from the viewer so as to heighten this sense of indeterminacy.

After moving from Poland to Paris in 1918, Lempicka gained recognition for her Art Deco portraits of glamorous, androgynous figures. Her style and subjects reflect her social circle, which included queer women like the writers Vita Sackville-West and Colette, and her own experiences as an openly bisexual woman.

Venus and Amor by Gerda Wegener, 1920

History: Echoes of Antiquity 

One of the most powerful sections, “History,” features works that portray an idealized classical past as an alibi to depict homoerotic imagery. Hans Von Marées’ Five Men in a Landscape feels suspended in a timeless queer utopia, while Rupert Bunny’s muscular Hercules takes on both dragons and sexual subtext. 

Venus and Amor is Gerda Wegener’s vision of lesbian Arcadia. In her uniquely Art Deco style, Wegener depicts a garden populated by the Three Graces, Cupid and Venus, the latter helping Cupid draw his bow. Cupid is represented as distinctly nonbinary, with rosy cheeks and nascent breasts. Like the figure of Puck in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Wegener seems to suggest Cupid’s mischievous nature is connected to his gender transgression. 

When this canvas was completed, Wegener was so popular in France that the government bought three of her works for the Louvre, which are now in the Centre Pompidou collections. 

Sadly, she spent her later years in poverty and died in 1940, shortly after Nazi Germany invaded Denmark.

The Joy of Effort by Robert Tait McKenzie, 1912

Robert Tait McKenzie was a Canadian physician, educator, athlete and sculptor who became director of athletics at the University of Pennsylvania. He donated hundreds of bronze homoerotic images of athletic young men to UPenn, where many are still on display. 

He was a key figure in sports medicine and rehabilitative medicine, designing prosthetics for wounded soldiers. He extolled the value of exercise early, especially for those who worked primarily with their minds. Despite the undeniable homoeroticism in his work, he was married, as the norms of his time dictated.

Cumulonimbus by Kotaro Nagahara, 1909

Kotaro Nagahara (1864-1930) was one of the early innovators of yōga, or Western-style painting, in late 19th-century Japan. The relatively conservative style of his male nudes (note the lack of visible genitals) may reflect the impact of the “nude debate” (ratai ronso) in Japanese art circles in the 1890s. The influence of Western nude painting fueled an intense debate among Japanese artists about the nature of propriety and indecency, and some yoga painters like Kuroda Seiki caused controversy for displaying nude paintings to the public. In this cultural atmosphere, it’s not surprising that Nagahara took a more discreet approach here in obscuring the figure’s genitalia.

Slaves by Gabriel Morcillo, 1926

Colonialism and Resistance: Imported Shame, Native Pride

But art is never just about aesthetics. In “Colonialism and Resistance,” the exhibition explains how Western imperialism often coded queerness as foreign or degenerate, while simultaneously fetishizing it. A pernicious side effect of colonialism was that Western suppressive ideologies on homosexuality were imposed on conquered lands — many of which went from respecting same-sex relations to writing homophobic laws into their legal codes. 

Gabriel Morcillo’s painting Slaves is a striking example of how Orientalist aesthetics were often used to veil overt homoeroticism. Like many artists of his era, Morcillo employed the exoticized imagery of the so-called “East” to explore themes of male beauty and sensuality, subjects that were daring and even dangerous to depict in the 1920s and early ’30s. He later experienced both the favor and the fallout  of political affiliation: Between 1950 and 1955, he was commissioned by dictator Francisco Franco to paint several portraits, both standing and on horseback. With the arrival of Spain’s democratic Transition, Morcillo was classified as a Francoist, and his work largely vanished from art history books, despite its considerable artistic merit.

L’après-midi (In the Afternoon) by David Paynter, 1935

David Paynter’s In the Afternoon offers a rare and quietly radical vision of male intimacy in early 20th century South Asian art. Born in 1900 in Sri Lanka (then Ceylon), Paynter was known for merging Western classical techniques with South Asian subjects, often weaving subtle references to same-sex desire into his work.

In this painting, two young men share an intimate gaze, one delicately holding a flower — echoing the sensuality of Gauguin’s Polynesian women but recast through a defiantly queer lens. The image stands in quiet resistance to colonial-era moral codes that had, by that time, already begun to reshape attitudes toward sexuality across South Asia.

Before the British imposed Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code in 1861 — which criminalized “carnal intercourse against the order of nature” — many Asian cultures held more fluid and nuanced understandings of gender and sexuality. Paynter’s work gestures toward that precolonial cultural memory, reclaiming tenderness between men as both natural and beautiful.

La Danza (Dance) by Elisàr von Kupffer, 1918

Beyond the Binary: Gender, Reimagined

Finally, “Beyond the Binary” delivers what may be the show’s most revelatory section. Featuring more than 60 works, it draws direct connections between early queer and trans identities. 

Among the highlights is one of the first self-consciously trans representations in art: Gerda Wegener’s 1929 portrait of her spouse Lili Elbe. 

This section also includes paintings from the Elisarion, a utopian queer villa in Switzerland. One of these images is believed to depict the first same-sex wedding scene in art history.

Elisàr von Kupfer, who preferred to be called Elisarion, founded a spiritual movement he named Clarism, which rejected the gender binary as a perversion of divine will. Proud of his own feminine physical features, von Kupfer adorned his temple in Minusio, Switzerland, with paintings of similarly androgynous and nonbinary figures. While von Kupffer was a pioneer in challenging gender and sexual norms, he was also a white supremacist, and his work was influenced by Aryanism. He sought to engage Adolf Hitler in correspondence, though there is no evidence that the dictator ever replied. 

In von Kupffer’s utopia, gender was fluid and inclusive — but race, clearly, was not. His example shows how radical views in one realm did not necessarily extend to others.

Untitled (kuchi-e [frontispiece] with artist’s seal Shisen) by Tomioka Eisen, 1895

This image was made as an illustration for the novel Sute obuna, an adaptation of the mystery novel Diavola (1885) by the British author Mary Braddon. From the 1880s onward, many European mystery stories were translated into Japanese and adapted to Japanese contexts. This could have the effect of producing unique and humorous juxtapositions between the Japanese characters and their Western mannerisms, as seen in this moment of unexpected male intimacy. Tomioka Eisen was a prolific illustrator during the Meiji Period, trained in ukiyo-e methods. He also produced a small number of erotic works, which were circulated privately.

Lili med fjerkos (Lili With a Feathered Fan) by Gerda Wegener, 1920

Lili With a Feathered Fan by Gerda Wegener depicts her husband, Einar Wegener (who later became Lili Elbe), holding a green feather fan. The painting is significant as an early example of transgender representation in art, created during a period when Lili was beginning to express her gender identity more openly. 

Lili first emerged in 1904 when Gerda asked Einat to pose in women’s clothing after one of her female models failed to show up. This moment marked the beginning of a public and private transformation. In the early ’20s, Lili began living more fully as a woman, and in 1930 she underwent one of the first known gender-affirming surgeries. 

Their relationship inspired the 2015 film The Danish Girl. Tragically, Lili died in 1931 from complications following the final stages of her surgeries. 

Peter (A Young English Girl) by Romaine Brooks, 1923

Romaine Brooks’ work from this period captures early 20th century lesbian life, with portraits of friends, lovers and fixtures of the queer world she inhabited. Here, Brooks depicts the nonbinary British artist known as Gluck, who also went by the name Peter. Gluck insisted on being addressed as “Gluck, no prefix, suffix or quotes” — rejecting any gendered association with their identity.

Amazing architecture, powerful art, dedicated docents and a relaxed, uncrowded flow make Wrightwood 659 well worth a visit.

Wrightwood 659 Does It Right 

Wrightwood 659 intentionally limits the number of visitors and requires timed-entry tickets purchased in advance. This keeps exhibitions intimate and uncrowded, allowing visitors to reflect deeply without distraction.

The First Homosexuals brings together more than 300 works by 125 queer artists from 40 countries, drawn from over 100 museums and private collections around the globe. Each loaned piece contributes to a sweeping, multifaceted narrative of queer identity, resilience and creativity. 

A quiet nook with a view at Wrightwood 659

Wally and I were struck not only by the scale of the exhibition, but by the obvious care with which it was assembled. Every element — from the curation of individual works to the flow of the galleries — felt deeply considered, designed to honor the artists, their histories and the communities they reflect.

We had the added privilege of visiting on a day when docents were present, enriching the experience with personal reflections and deeper context about the artists and their work. Their stories added an intimate, human layer to an already powerful presentation. –Duke

Wrightwood 659

West Wrightwood Avenue
Chicago, Illinois 
USA 

 

Secrets of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World

Author Bettany Hughes shares surprising truths about the Great Pyramid, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and other Wonders of the Ancient World. 

Quick — name the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

Struggling? You’re not alone.

Most people can’t list them all. Some guess the Colosseum or Stonehenge. Others don’t realize that only one still stands. 

“These weren’t just impressive buildings and sculptures.

They were bold declarations of power — a Hellenistic highlight reel that reflected the ambition and reach of Alexander the Great’s world.”

In her 2024 book The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World: An Extraordinary Journey Through History’s Greatest Treasures, historian Bettany Hughes peels back the mythology and reveals the politics, poetry and propaganda behind these wonders. These weren’t just impressive buildings and sculptures. They were bold declarations of power — a kind of Hellenistic highlight reel that reflected the ambition and reach of Alexander the Great’s world.

MORE: 3 Times Alexander the Great Wasn’t So Great

The oldest surviving version of the list was scribbled on a scrap of papyrus used to wrap a mummified body in Ancient Egypt. 

Most could be visited on a single, well-planned trip through the eastern Mediterranean. This was the ancient world’s first viral travel list — and its message was clear: Look upon our works, ye mortals, and marvel.

1. The Great Pyramid of Giza: A Resurrection Machine by the Nile

If you visit the Great Pyramid today, you’ll likely see a heat-blasted monument rising from a stretch of ochre desert. But what if we’ve been picturing it all wrong? Hughes urges us to reimagine the Giza Plateau not as barren but as bursting with life: “Where we see desertion, imagine an abundance of clover and thousands of homes; where there are sands, waterways; where there is emptiness, tens of thousands of workers in loincloths and linen kilts. Where there are now neutral horizons, there was once hectic color; where piles of collapsed stone, dwarf-pyramids and sloping, mudbrick mastaba tombs. Where desert, gravid green.”

Built around 2550 BCE and once faced in polished white limestone, the Great Pyramid would have shimmered with a blinding brilliance. 

It wasn’t just a royal tomb; it was a “resurrection machine,” a literal launchpad to the afterlife. This machine served a higher cosmic purpose: to guarantee Egypt’s prosperity by ensuring the pharaoh’s rebirth. The fate of the world literally depended upon Khufu’s afterlife. 

And the engineering behind it still leaves modern minds gasping. Standing 480 feet tall and weighing in at roughly 6.5 million tons, the pyramid used about 2.3 million blocks of limestone, each hauled into place over a quarter of a century. Its interior space alone could swallow London’s St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, and the cathedrals of Milan and Florence — with room to spare.

Despite theories ranging from alien intervention to lost technologies, Hughes focuses on the human marvel of it all: tens of thousands of anonymous laborers working 10-hour days, 52 weeks a year, over decades — moving one block every two to three minutes. Current estimates suggest around 20,000 workers were active on the plateau at any given time, likely using a combination of sledges, rollers, ramps and perhaps even early hydraulic lifts. Still, the exact method remains elusive: “The engineering and construction of the Pyramid — the way these blocks were shaped, lifted and set in place — has confounded researchers for centuries, triggering miles’ worth of parchment and paper, and now volumes of iCloud storage,” Hughes writes. “It is a conundrum that obsesses the modern world — taxing the minds of engineers, architects, archaeologists, surveyors, even mediums.”

It’s also easy to forget that this was a riverfront wonder. In Khufu’s day, the Nile flowed much closer to Giza, hugging the Pyramid complex for most of the year, and sometimes lapping its very foundations. What we now see as isolation was once a place of movement and connection — a grand riverside attraction.

Capped with a golden or electrum pyramidion that caught the sun’s rays and hurled them back to the heavens, the Great Pyramid symbolized the original mound of creation — the divine moment when the world emerged from chaos. It was cosmic.

2. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon: Myth, Monument or Mistranslation?

Of all the Seven Wonders, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon remain the most mysterious — and possibly the most fictional. Unlike the Great Pyramid, whose stones still scrape the sky, the Gardens leave us with no ruins, no universally agreed-upon site, and plenty of questions. Did they even exist?

If they did, the Hanging Gardens would have bloomed sometime in the 6th century BCE, during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar II — the great Babylonian king who ruled from 605 to 562 BCE and who is most often credited with their creation. That attribution, though, rests more on later tradition than contemporary evidence.

MORE: Nebuchadnezzar, King Josiah and the Formation of Jewish Law

And the evidence is where things get messy. Hughes lays out the problem clearly: Neither Herodotus nor Xenophon — Greek chroniclers who actually visited Babylon — mention the Gardens. Not once. That silence is thunderous. Even the East India House Inscription, a beautifully preserved 20-inch-wide slab chronicling the many accomplishments of Nebuchadnezzar II, makes no mention of them — no garden at all, hanging or otherwise.

So what gives?

Hughes suggests we may be looking for something too specific. What if the gardens weren’t separate from Babylon’s famed walls but were part of them — verdant terraces that flowed from the fortifications and palatial structures themselves? In many ancient lists, it’s actually Babylon’s walls that earn the “Wonder” designation, not the elusive Gardens. That ambiguity raises the possibility that what we now call the “Hanging Gardens” may have been a poetic misunderstanding — a mistranslated marvel.

And yet, the idea of the Gardens persists — not just because they would’ve been beautiful, but because they captured something deeper and darker about humanity’s emerging relationship with nature. These were not serene rooftop retreats. They were feats of engineering and control, power disguised as paradise.

“Whatever they were, however wondrous, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon would not have been idylls,” Hughes writes. “They would have been exquisite, exacting expressions of potency, expressions of belief, manifestations of ingenuity and the start of a dangerously dominating relationship with the natural world.”

Whether built in Babylon or borrowed from memories of Nineveh, the Hanging Gardens endure because they symbolize an idea: that nature could be bent into spectacle. And that idea, as Hughes suggests, has echoed through every empire since.

MORE: Controversial Theories About the Tower of Babel

3. The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus: Sanctuary of Stone and Wildness

Of all the ancient world’s architectural achievements, none left the poet Antipater of Sidon more breathless than the Temple of Artemis. Around 140 BCE, he wrote, “I have set eyes on the very wall of lofty Babylon, supporting a chariot road, and the [statue of] Zeus by the Alpheios [in Olympia], and the Hanging Gardens, and the Colossus of Helios, and the huge labor of the steep pyramids, and the vast tomb of Mausolos; but when I saw the temple of Artemis, reaching up to the clouds, these other marvels dimmed, they lost their brilliance, and I declared, ‘Look, apart from Olympus itself, the sun has never shone on anything that can compare to this!’”

Constructed around 550 BCE and rebuilt in grander fashion after a devastating fire in 356 BCE, the Artemision — as it was called in classical sources — was the first of the Seven Wonders to be accessible to all people, not just royalty. And it was the only one where women, both mythic and mortal, stood at the center of its story.

The original temple was incinerated on a sweltering July night — the very night Alexander the Great was born. In fact, the Greek world couldn’t help but connect the two events: “Tongues wagged: Artemis — goddess of nature and childbirth — it was whispered, was so busy in northern Greece, super-birthing a world-class megalomaniac, she neglected her earthly temple home,” Hughes writes. 

MORE: Alexander the Great: 8 WTF Facts About His Early Life

The arsonist was a man named Herostratus, likely a desperate slave who torched the temple to immortalize his own name — and, ironically, succeeded. The Ephesians tried to erase him completely. Speaking his name was made a capital crime. But history, being what it is, remembered him anyway.

The rebuilt temple was a marvel: 425 feet long, 225 feet wide — nearly twice the size of the Parthenon that would follow it 150 years later. It featured 127 columns, each 60 feet high, and some capped by a skylight above the central cult statue. The structure marked the first true colonnaded Greek temple, laying the architectural blueprint for millennia to come.

Here, Artemis wasn’t the graceful huntress of Louvre sculptures. She was Asiatic Artemis, a wild guardian of beasts, bearing the mystery and fertility of the Earth. She was a goddess of contradictions — pure yet primal, distant yet intimately present.

“Artemis in the mythology of the Greeks was an unusual goddess, a female figure who stood apart from the rutting sexuality that was the norm of ancient life and myth,” Hughes writes. “The story went that on the eve of her wedding, Artemis begged her father Zeus to allow her not to marry. In most cultures at this time, women were controlled, either by having to have sex, or by not being allowed to. Artemis’s agency, and her choice, makes her attractively odd. She was a virgin, whose sphere was consummation.”

Her image, kept hidden behind a curtain in the sanctuary, was likely a wooden plank known as a xoanon — treated as a living being. It was washed in seawater, anointed in fig milk or grape juice, adorned with clothes and gold, and lovingly cared for in a process called kosmeis — the root of our word cosmetics.

The cult of Artemis was largely female-led. Young women, or parthenoi, took part in the rites. But the high priests — the megabyzoi — were eunuchs, men who had castrated themselves in service to the goddess. Their female counterparts, the melissae, were the “honey women,” underscoring the deep associations between Artemis, fertility and nature’s sweetness.

Ephesus itself had become one of the largest and busiest cities in the ancient world, its port capable of hosting over 800 ships. That accessibility helped the temple’s fame spread far and wide. It was a religious sanctuary, a political hub and — crucially — a bank. Like many temples of the time, it safeguarded vast stores of wealth and knowledge. To violate the temple was to risk divine wrath.

The mythic presence of Amazons — female warriors who were said to have founded the site — was inescapable. Their likenesses adorned the temple’s façade, doorframes and rooftop sculptures. Bronze statues of Amazons stood with short chitons, bare breasts, crescent shields and battleaxes — some even depicted with wounds.

“The Temple of Artemis is a Wonder with diverse genetic makeup and influences from both East and West within its deity, its design and its dogma,” according to Hughes. “It is a work of mankind, trying to understand the power of the natural world and the power of women.”

And Artemis herself? Her statue was encrusted with bees, lions, griffins, cows, horses and sphinxes — a tapestry of creatures and symbols. Her front was thick with mysterious swellings: ostrich eggs? Pollen sacks? Breasts? Testicles? Bags of gold? The goddess resisted definition. She contained multitudes.

Topping her cylindrical polos crown was an image of the temple itself. A shrine of power, mystery and the wild feminine, the Artemision stood as a defiant celebration of life’s most primal forces.

4. The Statue of Zeus at Olympia: God Made Monument

Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher, captured just how beloved the Statue of Zeus had become by the 1st century CE: “The wish to witness the ancient masterpiece of Phidias was so intense, that to die without having seen it was considered a huge misfortune,” he wrote in Discourses. 

The statue of Zeus at Olympia glowed with godly gravitas inside the sanctuary’s darkened temple. A creation of the sculptor Phidias, it was a divine father made colossal: Zeus, King of the Gods, father of Artemis and Apollo, products of the rape of the titaness Leto. The statue wasn’t meant to comfort. It was meant to awe.

“Of course, in a place where men were attempting to become godlike, the ultimate god took the form of the ultimate man,” Hughes writes. 

Built between 438 and 430 BCE, the statue was made of the most extravagant materials available: gleaming hippopotamus ivory for skin, gold for hair and beard, ebony, bone, polished stone and glass. 

“Measuring the size of a three-story home (41 feet, on his pedestal rising over 44 feet tall), and yet seated, crouching, with his head skimming the ceiling, like Alice in Wonderland after taking her Drink Me spiked potion, the godhead must have seemed extraordinarily intimidating,” Hughes adds. “It was said that if he stood up, this Zeus would ‘unroof’ his temple-home.”

The throne featured six statues of Nike, the goddess of victory, marching up the legs. The arms of the seat were sobering sphinxes. The struts featured Herakles slaughtering Amazons to seize their queen’s girdle. The side panels showed Artemis and Apollo massacring Niobe’s children for her pride. And at Zeus’s feet? A stool supported by snarling lions — another Amazonian battlefield carved beneath.

“The message was clear: Olympia, and its Holy of Holies were, in every sense, somewhere that weakness was abhorred, for Zeus’s domain, there were only winners and losers,” Hughes explains. 

In Zeus’ right hand stood a 6-and-a-half-foot statue of Nike, also made of ivory and gold. In his left: a scepter topped by a gleaming eagle. His hair curled in heavy golden locks onto his shoulders, while his ivory skin was oiled daily to prevent cracking in the damp climate. That oil pooled in a limestone basin at his feet — creating a dark twin of the god.

The temple that housed Zeus at Olympia was a masterpiece of Doric architecture, designed by Libon of Elis and completed in 456 BCE with the spoils of war. Zeus’ likeness, modeled after Homer’s verses in The Iliad, captured the very image of cosmic authority. It was said Zeus could start an earthquake just by furrowing his brow. 

A wooden framework supported the ivory plating, carefully soaked in vinegar and sculpted into seamless sheets. Recent research by Kenneth Lapatin confirms the intricacy of this process — and the ingenuity of the ancients who achieved it.

When Roman Emperor Caligula ordered the statue’s decapitation in 41 CE so he could replace the god’s head with his own, Zeus reportedly laughed. The scaffolding collapsed, and days later, Caligula was assassinated — after having dreamed of the deity he sought to deface.

After standing for nearly 1,000 years, the statue was eventually moved to Constantinople, where it burned in a city-wide fire around 476 CE. Olympia’s pride, a masterpiece honored for generations, was reduced to ash.

And yet, Zeus lived on — not just in memory, but in iconography. The Byzantine depiction of Christ Pantokrator, “Ruler of All,” seated on a throne with glowering brow and commanding presence, bore a striking resemblance to Phidias’s Zeus. The divine father had been reborn.

5. The Mausoleum of Halikarnassos: A Monument to Power, Grief and Glittering Excess

It was a tomb so grand it gave its name to every monumental tomb that followed. But the Mausoleum of Halikarnassos — final resting place of Mausolos, satrap-king of Karia — wasn’t just massive. It was mesmerizing. A collision of Greek elegance, Persian grandeur and Anatolian symbolism, built between 361 and 351 BCE on the sun-soaked coast of modern-day Turkey.

This Wonder fused the influences of East and West: Ionian and Doric architectural styles mingled with the dramatic scale and symmetry of Persian rock-cut tombs. Hughes notes that Karia, the region where Halikarnassos sat, was a culture of blendings — borrowing, reimagining and innovating in equal measure. And the Mausoleum was its masterpiece.

“This giant tomb came to be thought of as wonderful because it was trumpeted as embodying a faithful woman’s selfless devotion to her husband-brother, a sign that the brilliance of some men is to devastate women by dying,” she writes. 

Indeed, much of its fame came from the story of Artemisia II, Mausolos’ sister and wife, who reportedly grieved so hard she mixed his ashes into her wine. But beneath the romance lay a structure of staggering ambition: a 145-foot-tall marble confection built atop a limestone terrace stretching over 785 feet — about half the height of Big Ben, and nearly the length of two football fields.

The base consisted of a rectangular podium roughly 100 by 125 feet wide. Above that, 36 columns ringed the structure, echoing the layout of the Temple of Artemis. On top of the colonnade rose a stepped pyramid of 24 tiers, leading to a grand pedestal. And at the very top? A chariot drawn by four thrashing horses, almost certainly carrying statues of Mausolos and Artemisia themselves — a couple who have been put quite literally on a pedestal.

Designed by architect-sculptor Pytheos and possibly other elite artists of the day — Scopas, Bryaxis, Leochares and Timotheus among them — the Mausoleum was both a sculpture gallery and a piece of architectural theater. Its blocks were polished to a glass-like sheen. Carvings depicted Mausolos hunting, receiving ambassadors, honoring the gods and leading battles — scenes real and imagined. Life, as Mausolos wanted it remembered, in full pageantry. 

We tend to think of ancient structures as white, but many were actually a riot of color — and the Mausoleum certainly was. “Funerary monuments in particular favored color — there was a sense that the polychrome experience brought the dead back to some kind of life,” Hughes informs us. “Mausolos’ tomb would have been a firework in the sky.”

And what fireworks: white marble, then bluish limestone adorned with over 120 human and animal figures — all progressing toward a seated Mausolos before a great doorway. Was this his entrance to the afterlife? Above this level, imported white marble from Athens depicted brutal battle scenes, including — once again — Amazons, a recurring motif in Wonder architecture.

A ring of lions likely prowled the pyramid’s base. The decorative program celebrated domination, but also wildness and ritual. Priestesses in clinging, diaphanous dresses, their bodies visible beneath the folds, hint at ecstatic Bacchic rites. 

Skulls unearthed at the site suggest mass animal sacrifice during the burial — a slaughter of sheep, oxen, lambs, birds. Where now there are thistles and butterflies, there were once streams of blood.

Threads of gold found among the ruins may have once wrapped the king’s cremated remains. 

A spring near the site was famed in antiquity for its uncanny power to make men infertile or effeminate. That same spring inspired Ovid’s tale of the creation of Hermaphrodite: the son of Hermes and Aphrodite, lured into its waters by a nymph, merging into one being of two sexes.

The Mausoleum was a place where myth, sex, sacrifice, politics and grief all coalesced. A wonder of death, yes — but pulsing with the messy, lavish power of life.

6. The Colossus of Rhodes: Bronze Giant, Fallen God

The Colossus of Rhodes is perhaps the most misunderstood Wonder. Popular imagination has long insisted it stood legs astride the harbor entrance, torch in hand, as ships passed beneath. But that towering figure, feet apart across a 390-foot waterway, is pure fantasy — a medieval myth that held the world’s imagination hostage for 800 years. (It even inspired the Titan of Braavos in George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones.)

In reality, the Colossus never straddled the harbor. It likely stood higher up, on the city’s acropolis, towering above the bustling port of Rhodes. This was Helios — the pre-Olympian sun god — cast in bronze and iron, gleaming in the Aegean light.

Standing an estimated 108 feet tall, the statue was a staggering feat of ancient engineering. Built in the early 3rd century BCE and completed around 280 BCE, it had a skeleton of iron and a polished bronze skin. Just one of its digits — a single toe, say — was said to be larger than most full-sized statues.

Unlike Zeus’ patriarchal presence, Helios pulsed with youthful ambition. “Whereas the Zeus at Olympia thundered, his luxurious beard the signifier of a mature man in Greek culture, Rhodes’ Wonder, the un-bearded, tousled, soft-lipped Helios, had the dangerous energy of a young, unpredictable man poised to do great things,” Hughes writes. 

And given the era, it’s hard not to see the influence and inspiration of Alexander the Great in the statue’s features and commanding pose. Rhodes had resisted a siege by one of Alexander’s successors — and the Colossus was both a victory monument and a symbol of sun-blessed resilience.

Kolossos is a Greek word — possibly of Asiatic origin — that originally meant simply “statue.” But this statue rewrote the definition. It was never just a likeness. It was legend in metal, a city’s pride forged into form.

“This was a wonder that became legendary within weeks of its completion,” Hughes says. 

Created by the sculptor Chares of Lindos — and possibly influenced by the legendary Telchines, mythical inventors of metalwork — the statue took 12 years to complete. It was cast in sections, working from the feet upward. Each foot stood on a marble plinth around 60 feet wide and 10 to 15 feet thick.

And then it fell.

Around 227 BCE — just 60 or so years after it was completed — a devastating earthquake struck Rhodes. The city walls crumbled, the coastline dropped by 3 feet, and the Colossus came crashing down. It broke at the knees and was never re-erected. 

The fragments, enormous and awe-inspiring, lay scattered for centuries — longer than the statue ever stood. According to later sources, the tumbled Helios remained visible until the 7th century CE, when its remains were finally melted down for scrap. So much for immortality.

And that legend has never quite gone cold.

7. The Lighthouse of Alexandria: Fire, Mirrors and the Edge of the World

Unlike the short-lived Colossus of Rhodes, the Lighthouse of Alexandria stood tall for over 1,500 years — a marvel of geometry, ingenuity and sheer ambition. Built beginning around 297 BCE and completed over the course of 15 years, this towering wonder rose more than 400 feet above the bustling twin harbors of Alexandria, Egypt, making it the second tallest structure in the ancient world after the Great Pyramid.

It was astonishing. A stacked sequence of geometric forms — square, octagonal, circular — constructed from marble and local limestone, sheathed in red granite shipped down the Nile from the scorched quarries of Aswan. Some blocks stretched 36 feet long and weighed 75 tons. The tower was crowned with a 50-foot statue, almost certainly of Zeus Soter (Zeus the Savior), watching over the seas like a divine lighthousekeeper.

Its beacon could be seen for over 37 miles — a flaming furnace at night, and during the day, sunlight reflected off massive copper mirrors. It was both a feat of engineering and a performance of cosmic authority. Ships approaching Alexandria’s treacherous coast — battered by crosswinds, stalked by hidden rocks — were guided by this shimmering sentinel, the Pharos.

It was built of red granite, which is usually a dull pink, but could turn an iridescent purple  in desert light. “The ancients must have believed red granite brought with it some kind of sorcerer’s power,” Hughes muses. 

The tower’s structure was just as beguiling: a 1,115-by-1,115-foot base with fortified brick walls and turrets; an interior ramp and hoist system to ferry fuel and supplies; and an eight-sided middle tier symbolizing the compass winds. Above that, a cylindrical chamber topped with the beacon — perhaps powered by naphtha and papyrus, possibly attended by pack animals climbing in pairs.

And the Pharos wasn’t just a lighthouse. It was also a proto-telecom tower, using flashing heliography — ancient Morse code — and possibly even mechanical sound effects. Sculpted Tritons (half-man, half-fish) stood around the structure, possibly blowing horns that served as early sirens, ancient animatronics that altered the city in times of danger.

The lighthouse was initially funded by Ptolemy I — one of Alexander the Great’s most successful generals — and completed under his son, Ptolemy II. It cost an estimated 800 silver talents — over $19 m

illion in today’s money. Built on the island of Pharos, which would lend its name to the structure and eventually become the word for “lighthouse” in multiple languages, the monument embodied Ptolemaic power and vision. It was a glowing stake in the sand, declaring Alexandria the gateway between Africa, Asia and the Mediterranean world.

And for centuries, it worked.

Until 1303 CE, when the Earth shook. An earthquake finally toppled the Pharos, reducing it to ruins and ending one of the longest-standing Wonders of the Ancient World.

MORE: The Major Egyptian Gods and Goddesses

Why the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World Still Matter

All but one of the original Seven Wonders may be long gone — toppled by earthquakes, scavenged for scrap, or buried beneath centuries of sand and myth. But as Hughes makes clear, their true legacy is that they weren’t simply monuments to kings or gods. They were monuments to us — to human ambition, ingenuity, imagination and the drive to build something bigger than ourselves.

The list was specific, political, proudly Hellenistic — showcasing a curated world seen through Greek eyes in the wake of Alexander the Great. And yet, the idea of a Wonder has endured far beyond its original moment.

“Wonders serve a rich triple purpose,” Hughes writes. “They were constructed partly to feed our need for wondrous tales — to experience and talk about the biggest, the best, the tallest, the most strange, the most bold. They encourage a saturation in the now, by submitting to a present, pure sensation of wonder. They remind us of our overwhelming desire to collaborate to create beyond the possibilities of the individual.” 

Even today, the concept of a “wonder” still fuels our storytelling, our bucket lists, our skyscrapers and our sci-fi dreams. Because deep down, we’re still looking to be amazed. Still looking to build what seems impossible. Still wondering. –Wally

MORE: What Was Daily Life Like in Ancient Egypt?

What to Know Before You Go to Meow Wolf’s Radio Tave in Houston

At Radio Tave, reality takes a coffee break. Here are 10 tips to get the most of this kaleidoscopic wormhole of art, lore and immersive weirdness. 

Imagine stepping into a radio station from another dimension — one where the airwaves are alive, nothing is quite what it seems, and reality twists like a pretzel. That’s Meow Wolf’s Radio Tave, a 29,000-square-foot mind-bending, neon-drenched fever dream where the usual rules of physics, logic and personal space don’t apply. It’s like doing shrooms without actually doing shrooms — trust me, you don’t need psychedelics to feel like your brain is melting … in the best way possible.

Before heading in, prepare yourself. You might think you’re just visiting a trippy art exhibit, but Radio Tave has other plans. Here’s what you need to know before you tumble down the rabbit hole.

“ Trust me, you don’t need psychedelics to feel like your brain is melting … in the best way possible.

”

Note: This post contains spoilers of a sort, as well as images of Meow Wolf Radio Tave. 

1. Engage fully. When in doubt, touch it, open it … and question reality. 

This isn’t a museum. You’re not just here to admire at a safe distance. You’re here to get lost, touch everything, and probably question your grip on reality.

If something seems slightly off, investigate. You might discover a hidden passage, a surreal transmission or a funky relic from another dimension. If that radio sounds like it’s whispering secrets directly into your soul … it absolutely is.

2. Always look for a door (even if it’s not a door). 

In the world of Radio Tave, exits are illusions and illusions are exits. Sometimes a doorway is painted into a mural. Sometimes the handle to another world is just sitting there, waiting for you to open it.

If you find yourself in a room with no way out, take a breath. The escape route is probably hiding in plain sight — maybe inside an everyday object.

3. The mystery’s there … but don’t drive yourself crazy trying to solve it. 

There’s lore here. A lot of lore. Something about a radio station lost in time and space, a mysterious force manipulating the airwaves, and an entire reality gone sideways. You can follow the clues if you want to unravel the mystery, but spoiler alert: You’ll never get a full answer.

The designers left about 60% of the story intentionally vague, meaning you’ll pick up eerie transmissions, weird artifacts and cryptic messages that hint at something much bigger … but never quite give you the full picture.

We asked a couple of staffers if there was an official solution to the mystery, and they all sort of looked at us blankly.

So go ahead and chase the story, but don’t stress if you leave with more questions than answers. That’s half the fun.

4. Try to avoid the crowds — and don’t worry if you get separated.  

Entry is staggered, which helps keep things from feeling too crowded. Show up on time, or risk having to wait for another entry slot.

If you’re with friends, don’t panic if you get separated. This place has a way of pulling people in different directions, and honestly? That’s part of the experience. Make a loose plan, but embrace the chaos. Maybe you’ll end up meeting in the break room — or at the dimension-tearing tornado. 

5. Prioritize comfort (your feet will thank you). 

Shoes matter. If you show up in stilettos or flimsy sandals, you’re going to regret it. Stick to sneakers or other comfortable shoes — you’ll be wandering, climbing stairs, and possibly stepping into alternate dimensions.

Mobility-wise, most of the space is accessible, but there are a few places where you might have to step over low thresholds or navigate tight areas. Take the elevator at least once. It’s fun to see where you end up. 

6. Pony up for the glasses. 

Fork over the 2 bucks to get a pair of Chromadepth 3D glasses — and while you don’t have to wear them the entire time, they’re worth pulling out at the right moments.

Some of the painted walls have low-key 3D effects, but that’s just the warmup.

The real magic happens in the more mind-bending spaces, where the glasses crank up the intensity and make everything feel deeper, weirder and way more immersive.

Wear them when you want extra visual chaos, then take them off when you need a break. 

7. Savor the experience (i.e., put your phone down for a minute!)

Yes, you’re going to want photos. The colors are otherworldly, the visuals are trippy, and if you don’t take at least one deeply confused selfie, did you even go?

But also — be in the moment. Some of the most surreal parts of the experience can’t be captured in a picture or video. The way the sound shifts as you walk through a portal, the eerie sensation of a voice whispering something maybe just for you, the feeling that you’re being watched by something just outside the edge of perception…

Take some shots, sure. But also just let yourself be immersed in the bizarre.

8. Admire the work of local artists. 

Over 100 artists contributed to various aspects of Radio Tave, with more than 50 coming right from Texas.

Keep an eye out for the work of Sam Lao, Dawn Okoro, El Franco Lee II, Gonzo247, Jasmine Zelaya, Loc Huynh and Trenton Doyle Hancock — their murals and installations add another layer of brilliance, storytelling and local soul to the already surreal experience.

If you find yourself staring at a piece of art for an uncomfortably long time, congrats! You’re experiencing Meow Wolf correctly.

9. Get a drink at the Cowboix Hevvven saloon (you’ll need one). 

Inside Radio Tave, you’ll find Cowboix Hevvven, an interdimensional saloon with themed drinks and a chill, quirky vibe. If you need to process what just happened (or just want to sip something colorful in a surreal setting), this is the place. You should definitely stop by — if you’ve ever wanted to step into the Star Wars cantina, this might be the closest you’ll ever get.

10. Exit through the gift shop. 

Let’s be real: The gift shop is pricey. But if you want a souvenir from your brain-melting trip through another dimension, this is your shot.

There are weird and wonderful trinkets, exclusive artwork and surprisingly stylish clothing. My friend got a sweater and socks; I got some stickers.

Even if you don’t buy anything, it’s worth a look — just in case you need a memento of the time you accidentally slipped into another reality and lived to tell the tale.

Bonus tip: Hit Saint Arnold’s before (or after) your journey through the multiverse. 

Whether you need to fuel up before stepping into the unknown or decompress after tumbling through time and space, Saint Arnold Brewing Company is a perfect stop — and it’s right across the street. 

This Houston institution is Texas’ oldest craft brewery, serving up a stellar lineup of beers alongside a menu of hearty eats.

The vibe? A mix of laidback beer garden meets quirky art installation, complete with a funky fleet of decorated cars that feel like they could roll straight into Meow Wolf without missing a beat.

It’s the ideal place to gather your crew, sip something refreshing, and prepare (or recover) from the mind-bending experience that is Radio Tave.

Radio Tave: Tune In and Trip Out

Radio Tave is hard to describe. It’s more than an art exhibit — it’s an experience. It’s part scavenger hunt, part fever dream, part “Wait, am I actually here or did I just astral-project?”

Whether you dive headfirst into the lore, obsess over the hidden doors, or just vibe with the neon-lit absurdity of it all, you’re in for a wild ride.

So go in with an open mind, comfortable shoes, and absolutely no expectations of logic or reason — and have the time of your (possibly multidimensional) life. –Wally

Meow Wolf Houston: Radio Tave

2103 Lyons Avenue
Building 2
Houston, Texas
USA

 

The Ultimate 10-Day Iceland Road Trip

Your Ring Road and Golden Circle itinerary — complete with must-see detours, travel tips and can’t-miss stops you’ll brag about for years. 

Reynisfjara Beach

Why visit Iceland? The country begs to be circled, zigzagged, detoured and lingered over — with waterfalls misting your windshield, lava fields stretching to the horizon, and hot springs steaming under the midnight sun. The best way to do that? Hit the road.

This guide maps out a wow-per-minute route that loops the island on Route 1 (the famous Ring Road), layers in the Golden Circle, and sprinkles in a few side quests you’ll be humblebragging about for years.

“Whether you go clockwise or counterclockwise, you’ll pass glacier tongues, black sand beaches, alien geothermal zones, and sleepy fishing towns that look straight out of a Nordic fairy tale.”

Below: a 10-day Iceland itinerary that balances drive time and jaw-dropping moments, plus tips on timing, packing, and how to drive like a local without becoming an accidental sheep herder.

Brimketill natural pool

Why the Ring Road (Plus a Few Smart Detours) Is “The One”

Route 1 loops the entire country in about 1,332 kilometers (828 miles). Whether you go clockwise or counterclockwise, you’ll pass glacier tongues, black sand beaches, alien geothermal zones, and sleepy fishing towns that look straight out of a Nordic fairy tale.

Sure, you could do the loop in seven days — but 10 gives you breathing room to wander, soak and say “wow” every few miles. Toss in the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, the Golden Circle, and a Highlands teaser (if roads allow), and you’ve got yourself the greatest hits album of Iceland.

Reykjavik

The 10-Day Ultimate Iceland Road Trip Itinerary

Day 1: Reykjavik Arrival and Prep

• Land, stock up and ease in. Pick up your campervan or car, grab groceries at Bónus or Krónan, and explore Reykjavik’s colorful streets (don’t miss Hallgrímskirkja and Harpa). And there’s always the Icelandic Phallological Museum if that’s your thing. 

• Overnight: Reykjavik or a nearby campground (Mosskogar, Hafnarfjörður)

• Driving: Minimal (airport to city)

Þingvellir National Park

Day 2: The Golden Circle Warm-Up

• Þingvellir National Park: Tectonic plates and Viking-age drama. Walk the rift valley. Bonus points for snorkeling between continents at Silfra.

• Geysir Geothermal Area: Strokkur erupts every 5 to 10 minutes. Perfect for slo-mo footage.

• Gullfoss: A two-tiered roar that sets the tone for Iceland’s waterfall game.

• Secret stop: Reykjadalur hot spring hike — geothermal soak with a view.

• Overnight: Campsite in Selfoss or Flúðir (the Secret Lagoon is rustic and steamy).

• Driving: About 230 kilometers / 143 miles

Solheimasandur plane wreck

Day 3: South Coast Icons: Waterfalls to Black Sand

• Seljalandsfoss and Gljúfrabúi: Walk behind one, then find the other hiding in a canyon.

• Skógafoss: Perfect rectangular power. Climb up for panoramic payoff.

• Sólheimasandur Plane Wreck: Eerie DC-3 remains in a black desert. It’s a 7-to-8-kilometer  round trip, so bring snacks.

• Vík and Reynisfjara Beach: Basalt columns, sea stacks and sneaker waves. Keep a healthy distance.

• Overnight: Vík or Kirkjubæjarklaustur.

• Driving: About 200 kilometers / 124 miles

Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon

Day 4: Glaciers, Icebergs and Lava Fields

• Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon: A mossy, winding marvel (check road access)

• Skaftafell (Vatnajökull NP): Hike to Svartifoss or strap on crampons for a glacier walk.

• Jökulsárlón and Diamond Beach: Icebergs to the ocean, glittering ice on black sand. Straight-up magic

• Overnight: Höfn area (soak at Hoffell hot tubs if you’re feeling fancy).

• Driving: About 270 kilometers / 168 miles

Seyðisfjörður

Day 5: The Eastfjords: Switchback Beauty and Tiny Towns

• The drive: Narrow roads cling to fjords, with surprise tunnels and gasp-worthy views.

• Stops: Djúpivogur’s giant eggs, Petra’s Stone Collection, maybe a reindeer cameo near Egilsstaðir

• Optional detour: Seyðisfjörður, a rainbow-road artsy escape in a deep fjord

• Overnight: Egilsstaðir or Seyðisfjörður

• Driving: About 260 kilometers / 162 miles

Hverir

Day 6: Northbound to the “Capital of the North”

• Dettifoss and Selfoss: One’s raw power, the other’s elegance. Use Route 862 if you prefer paved.

• Hverir: Bubbling mud pots and sulfurous steam. Welcome to Mars, Iceland edition.

• Lake Mývatn: Lava labyrinths, pseudocraters and the blue Grjótagjá cave

• Godafoss: Horseshoe-shaped and heavenly

• Overnight: Akureyri

• Driving: About 300 kilometers / 186 miles 

Whale watching at Húsavík

Day 7: Whale Tails and Turf Roofs

• Morning in Akureyri: Coffee and a botanical stroll

• Húsavík Whale Watching: Prime humpback territory. Book ahead.

• Glaumbær Turf Farm: Sod-roofed time travel

• Overnight: Varmahlíð or Blönduós

• Driving: About 260 kilometers / 162 miles

Snæfellsnes

Day 8: West Iceland & Snæfellsnes Teaser

• Short hikes: Glanni Waterfall and Grabrok Crater

• Snæfellsnes (optional start): Kirkjufell, Arnarstapi cliffs, Djúpalónssandur beach and the glacier-capped Snæfellsjökull

• Overnight: Stykkishólmur, Grundarfjörður or Hellissandur

• Driving: About 300 kilometers / 186 miles (less if you save Snæfellsnes for tomorrow)

Vatnshellir lava cave

Day 9: Finish Snæfellsnes & Return to Reykjavik

• Catch anything you missed: Vatnshellir lava cave, the moody Búðir black church

• Optional soak: Krauma Baths — steamy serenity powered by Europe’s most powerful hot spring

• Overnight: Reykjavik or Keflavik

• Driving: About 250 kilometers / 155 miles

Reykjanes Peninsula

Day 10: Blue Lagoon, Reykjanes, and Farewell

• Lagoon of your dreams: Sky or Blue Lagoon. Yes, they’re touristy. They’re also glorious.

• Reykjanes Peninsula: Lava cliffs at Brimketill, bubbling Gunnuhver, and a bridge between tectonic plates

• To do: Return your ride. Ooh and ahh over your photos. Cry a little.

• Driving: About 80 to 120 kilometers / 50 to 75 miles 

Hveravellir

Bonus Detours (If You’ve Got Extra Days) on Your Iceland Road Trip

• The Westfjords: Rugged, wild and crowd-free. Dynjandi waterfall, Látrabjarg puffins, Rauðasandur’s red beach. Add 3 to 5 days.

• The Highlands: Summer only, 4x4 required. Rhyolite mountains of Landmannalaugar, steamy Hveravellir. Check F-road status before you go.

• Thórsmörk Valley: Epic hikes and glacier views — reached via rough roads and worth every bump.

Godafoss

When to Go on Your Iceland Road Trip (And What That Means)

• Summer (June to August): Midnight sun, most accessible, priciest and busiest. Reserve everything early.

• Shoulder Seasons (May and September): Fewer crowds, lower prices, decent daylight. Road conditions can vary.

• Winter (October to April): Northern lights, snow-globe vibes, but also storms and limited daylight. Consider shorter loops unless you’re a seasoned winter driver.

The Ring Road

Island Road Trip Logistics: Campervan vs. Car

My take: campervans = ultimate freedom + a rolling kitchen. If you want to be spontaneous, cook your own meals and sleep by waterfalls, this is the way. Iceland’s campsites are everywhere, and a fully equipped premium campervan makes logistics easy-peasy.

Selfoss

Driving and Safety Tips for Iceland

• Weather: Vedur.is and road.is are your new besties. Wind can literally rip doors off.

• Single-lane bridges and blind hills: Yield, go slow, stay alert.

• Gravel and F-roads: That F stands for fjall (Icelandic for “mountain”). Most insurance won’t cover damage. Know what you’re driving.

• Sheep patrol: If one crosses, assume more are on the way.

• Fuel: Fill up when you can — especially in the East and North.

Diamond Beach

Iceland Road Trip Budget Snapshot (Per Day for Two)

• Campervan: $150 to $300+

• Fuel: $60 to $100

• Campsites: $15 to $25 per person

• Food: $30 to $50 (DIY), double if you eat out

• Activities: $60 to $200 per tour

• Pro tip: Tap water = glacier-fresh and free. Bring a refillable bottle.

Glaumbær Turf Farm

Packing Essentials for Your Iceland Road Trip That You’ll Actually Use

• Clothing: Waterproof shell, warm layers, quick-dry everything, swimsuit, gloves — even in July.

• Shoes: Waterproof boots, camp shoes, microspikes for shoulder season.

• Electronics: Car inverter, USB hubs, offline maps, camera batteries (the cold eats them).

• Comfort: Spices, condiments, a French press, headlamp (winter) or eye mask (summer).

• Safety: First aid kit, emergency blanket, paper map backup.

Iceland Campsite Etiquette and Rules

• No wild camping (unless a farmer says yes). Use official sites.

• Leave no trace. Seriously. Iceland’s fragile — pack it in, pack it out.

• Keep quiet hours: Usually 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. The midnight sun doesn’t excuse middle-of-the-night karaoke sessions.

Dettifoss

Take the Road, Not Just the Photo

Iceland is a photographer’s dream, but the real magic happens in between the snapshots — chatting with locals about elf rocks, soaking in a secret hot pool, or pulling over because the sky just exploded in green fire.

So start your engine. Keep your plans loose. And let Iceland do what it does best: Surprise you around every bend. –Jeremy Albelda

Lost Your Wallet Abroad? Here’s How to Not Freak Out

Losing your wallet while traveling is stressful, but you don’t have to panic. Here’s a step-by-step guide to protect your money, identity and peace of mind — wherever you are.

Losing your wallet on vacation can quickly turn your dream trip into a stressful scramble. Say you’re in Morocco. Between the twisting medinas, bustling souks and nonstop adventures, it’s surprisingly easy to misplace something important. But before panic sets in, take a breath. There’s a calm, practical way to handle the situation — and we’ve got your back.

---

MORE: 8 Tips to Get the Best Deals at a Moroccan Souk

---

Here’s exactly what to do if you’ve lost your wallet abroad.

1. Retrace your steps. 

Though it may sound obvious, the quickest way to find anything misplaced is to stop and immediately retrace your steps. Adrenaline can cloud your memory, so take a few deep, slow breaths as you consider where you have been since you last saw or used your wallet. Was it that café where you had lunch? The market you went to afterward? A taxi? If you can, go back place by place and ask the nearby merchants — many people have luck finding lost items that have been handed in by locals and passersby.

If they don’t speak English well, don’t panic. Most Moroccans, for example, speak French, so try, “As-tu trouvé un portefeuille?” (pronounced a bit like: “Ah tew troo-vay uhn port-foy?”) That means, “Have you found a wallet?” 

Or, you could use a translation app such as Google Translate to speak a more specific phrase, detailing the wallet. Stay calm — people in Morocco and other parts of the world honor hospitality and are generally very helpful.

2. Cancel your cards. 

If it becomes clear that you aren’t going to find your wallet anytime soon, you need to cancel your credit and debit cards immediately. You could call your bank or use a mobile banking app — look for free Wi-Fi in a hotel or café, or hotspot off one of a travel companion if you don’t have roaming access. 

Most major banks have protective measures in place for international travelers and will know what to do to keep your money safe. They may even be able to provide a replacement card for you to use on the remainder of your vacation.

3. Report it to the police. 

Even if you don’t suspect your wallet was stolen, it’s still useful to report it to the local police. You may need the official report as documentation for your travel insurance, and if anyone hands it in, they can get in touch and return it to you. In big cities like Casablanca and Marrakech, tourist police are often stationed near major landmarks.

If you were unlucky enough to have your ID and/or passport in your wallet, contact your home country’s embassy or consulate. They can help you with emergency travel documents and a replacement passport, and can also offer advice and assistance. 

You’ll likely need the police report, a passport photo (easily done in a camera shop), and proof of address (bank statements or similar).

4. Get some emergency funds. 

If you stashed some emergency cash in your luggage or hotel room, now is the time to use it. Otherwise, you can ask someone from back home to send you funds using a reputable money transfer company like Remitly. 

Some banking apps like Revolut or Monzo may allow you to freeze physical cards but continue to use virtual cards, which can be a lifesaver for booking transport or buying food until you get sorted.

Remember, you don’t have to cancel your trip and start planning your return journey early — just maybe skip the expensive dinner for now. 

Many cities in Morocco, for instance, are easily walkable and full of delicious street food, inexpensive riads and budget-friendly experiences. The loss of your wallet may force you to enjoy a slower travel experience until you are reassured that your money is safe. That’s could be a blessing in disguise.

How to Prevent Losing Your Wallet Abroad

Once you’ve secured your finances and hopefully regained your wallet, it can be useful to consider what went wrong. Was your wallet in your back pocket? Did you drop it into your backpack and forget to zip it up? Crowded markets and tourist hotspots are prime areas for pickpockets, no matter where you are in the world, so it’s worth remembering to be extra careful in the future.

Next time you go away, why not invest in an under-clothes wallet pouch or a money belt, or split your cash and cards between different spots in your luggage. You should also take a photo of your passport, visa and cards before traveling, or use a travel card and leave your real ones safely behind at the hotel.

Learn from the experience. 

Though it can be a real test of patience to lose your wallet abroad, it doesn’t have to ruin your trip. With the right steps and a bit of support, you can keep your cool and still have a great adventure. Travel isn’t about perfection; it’s about learning to adapt and smile through the challenges we face along the way. –Amanda Gardner

---

MORE: 9 Tips for Navigating the Fès Media — And Making It Out Alive

10 Divine Ways Roman Women Were Deified

From mimicking gestures to fertility-loaded iconography, these imperial women followed a set of rules to prove they were literal goddesses. 

Vibia Sabina, looking every bit the empress — and maybe the goddess. Hadrian gave her honors in death…if not warmth in life.

Questionable hairdos, divine mimicry and the occasional eagle ride to the afterlife — being an imperial woman in Ancient Rome came with flair. Drawing from You Look Divine: Deifying Women in the Roman Empire, a lecture by archaeologist C. Brian Rose at the Art Institute of Chicago, I’m breaking down how Rome turned its empresses into literal goddesses.

A select few imperial women didn’t stop at empress; they were turned into goddesses after death, in a process called apotheosis. And Rose didn’t just walk us through Roman history — he charioted us straight to the heavens. Through sculpture, coinage and other dramatic iconography, here are the most divine highlights.

Apotheosis of Antoninus Pius and Faustina, where the imperial couple ascends to the heavens atop the wings of Eternity

How to Become a Goddess (in Ancient Rome)

1. Ride an eagle — or Eternity herself — into the heavens. 

When an empress died, art often showed her literally taking off for the heavens. The preferred transportation? The oldest Roman custom was to depict the soul carried up by an eagle, symbolizing the late empress’ apotheosis (ascension to godhood).

There was another method of transport, though: On the monumental Column of Antoninus Pius, for example, Faustina the Elder, wife of Antoninus, is shown being whisked heavenward by none other than a winged figure of the personification of Eternity (often depicted as a woman but here as a man), with two eagles in tow. Talk about traveling in style!

In short, if you wanted to advertise that a Roman woman became a goddess, you put her on a first-class feathered flight straight to the stars.

Julia Domna as Ceres, goddess of grain — serving up imperial fertility with a side of wheat

2. Recycle the pose of a goddess, become a goddess. 

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery — and in Rome, it was a fast track to divinity. Empresses would borrow the bodies of goddesses (at least in marble). 

Statues of imperial women often copied the poses and symbols of deities so closely that only the heads and inscriptions differed. Julia Domna, for instance, had a statue in Ostia holding wheat and poppies, just like Ceres, goddess of agriculture. In fact, her statue’s body was so generic-goddess that another statue of Empress Sabina used almost the exact same body with a different head and hairdo. 

Drusilla, Caligula’s sister, favorite — and, if whispers are to be believed, something more. After her death, he made her a goddess.

3. Get deified by a doting brother (thanks, Caligula!). 

Sometimes it’s all about who your family is. If your brother happens to be emperor and is just a tiny bit obsessed with you, you might skip the whole virtuous life part and go straight to goddess. 

Case in point: Caligula and his sister Drusilla. When Drusilla died in 38 CE, Caligula was so heartbroken (and unhinged) that he had the Senate declare her a goddess. He bestowed on her the name Diva Drusilla Panthea, meaning “the Divine Drusilla, the All-Goddess.” 

She was the first woman in Roman history to be officially deified by an emperor’s decree.  It didn’t hurt that Caligula fancied himself a living god, too — nepotism at its peak. 

Drusilla’s fast-pass to Mount Olympus shows that in Rome, having a god-maker in the family (even a certifiably crazy one) could trump all other qualifications.

Built for Faustina, rededicated to Antoninus — this temple is what happens when a Roman emperor can’t quit his empress, even after death.

4. If you’re really special, you get a temple of your own. 

When an empress was truly exceptional, the Romans gave her the ultimate posthumous honor: a temple on prime real estate. Think of it as the architectural equivalent of landing the cover of Vogue, but for eternity. 

Faustina the Elder was the first to score this distinction. After her deification, Emperor Antoninus Pius built the Temple of Faustina in the Roman Forum in 141 CE, complete with a grand colonnade and priests offering sacrifices in her name.

Julia Augusta (Livia) rocking the nodus — a hairstyle so serious it doubled as a public statement: “I’m chaste, powerful and one step from godhood.”

5. Be so virtuous, your hairstyle becomes a symbol of moral purity.

In Roman iconography, a woman’s hairstyle shouted her values to the world. Take Livia Drusilla, Augustus’ wife and the first First Lady of Rome. She pioneered the “nodus” hairstyle — a pudgy roll of hair over the forehead with the rest tied in a bun. 

It looks simple, but it spoke volumes. By choosing the nodus style, Livia presented herself as the embodiment of traditional Roman feminine virtues like pudicitia (modesty) and pietas (duty). 

That conservative ’do was basically a halo of humility. And it caught on: Women across the empire copied it for two or three generations, signaling that they too were modest, dutiful matrons. 

Faustina the Younger paired with Juno Lucina, goddess of childbirth — because bearing heirs was a divine duty and a full-time job

6. Fertility becomes your superpower. 

In the Roman imperial playbook, making imperial babies wasn’t just family planning — it was practically a divine service. An empress’ ability to bear children (preferably future emperors) was glorified as a literal superpower that kept Rome strong. 

Many empresses obliged, but Faustina the Younger outdid them all. She and Marcus Aurelius had at least 14 children (yes, 14), including two sets of twins. 

Her prolific motherhood was celebrated far and wide. Upon one daughter’s birth, the mint issued coins depicting Faustina as Juno Lucina, goddess of childbirth. The message was clear: The empress isn’t just having babies, she’s basically a fertility goddess herself. 

Imperial artists would show empresses with a cornucopia to symbolize fruitfulness — and the longer the better. Sometimes a woman was so fertile, she’d be deprived with a double cornucopia. 

Faustina the Younger as Venus and Marcus Aurelius as Mars — Rome’s ultimate power couple, cast as the gods of love and war

7. Victory and motherhood were a package deal. 

In the Roman mindset, a great empress could multitask on a cosmic level. She wasn’t just Mother of the Imperial House; she could be Mother of the Army, too. 

The idea was that an empress’ virtues off the battlefield (loyalty, fecundity, stability) magically contributed to victory on the battlefield. It sounds like a stretch, but the Romans leaned in. 

Faustina the Younger even got an official title for it: Mater Castrorum, “Mother of the Camp.” In 174 CE, she accompanied Marcus Aurelius to war in the wilds of Central Europe. The honorific implied that Faustina’s motherly care extended to the Roman army, boosting their morale and, by extension, Rome’s victories. 

Faustina the Elder had courier guilds renaming themselves after her and stage performers dedicating altars — all while she was still alive. Beyoncé who?

8. Gain a cult following (literally) in the provinces. 

If you really wanted a head start on divinity, it helped to have people worshipping you before you died. 

In the eastern provinces of the empire, where imperial cults were all the rage, communities sometimes treated the empress as a living goddess — with the emperor’s blessing, of course. This was savvy PR: It spread loyalty and flattered Rome’s rulers. 

Faustina the Elder enjoyed this rockstar status. In her lifetime, a courier guild in Ephesus renamed itself after her, and over in Puteoli, Italy, a group of stage performers (the scabillarii, who used foot clappers to keep rhythm) went so far as to dedicate an altar in her honor while she was still alive. 

Essentially, Faustina had fan clubs doing daily devotions to her across the empire. Incense, altars, maybe even occasional sacrifices — all for the living empress. 

These provincial admirers weren’t saying she was on par with Jupiter or Juno (let’s not get crazy), but they were laying the groundwork for her eventual deification.

By the time Faustina died and was officially consecrated as Diva, half the empire was already used to treating her as divine. 

Galba had no dynastic ties, so he borrowed some cred — appearing on a coin with Livia as Diva Augusta, Rome’s eternal empress.

9. Coins acted as your dynastic propaganda. 

Silver denarius of 69 CE: the deified Livia (Diva Augusta) standing with scepter and patera on the reverse. If you wanted to spread a message in ancient Rome, you stamped it on a coin. 

Imperial women found had their new goddess status broadcast through pocket change across the empire. Every coin was like a tiny billboard screaming, “The imperial family is sacred and stable!” 

One dramatic example: in 68–69 CE, during a chaotic civil war, Emperor Galba desperately needed legitimation. So what did he do? He minted coins showing Augusta Livia — wife of Augustus, long dead and deified — on the reverse, with the legend “the divine Augusta.”

By flaunting the protection of Grandma Livia’s divine spirit, Galba hoped to borrow her clout and calm everyone’s nerves about his usurpation. 

Living empresses appeared on coins with allegorical goddesses (Fecunditas, Pietas, Venus Victrix and the like) to nudge the public toward certain conclusions (e.g., “She’s as fruitful as a goddess!” or “She’ll bring victory!”). 

To Roman eyes, Faustina the Younger was more than marble. She was a living presence — painted, perfumed and draped in cloth like the goddess she had become.

10. Your statues get painted and perfumed. 

Those ghost-white marble busts we see in museums? In Ancient Rome, they were painted in full color and sometimes even scented to smell divine. 

Romans treated the images of their gods (and deified emperors or empresses) almost like living beings. Recent research reveals that many Greco-Roman sculptures were not only brightly painted, draped in real cloth, and adorned with jewelry, and even doused in perfumes and fragrant oils. 

So imagine walking into a temple of the deified Empress Faustina: You’d see a statue of her with rosy skin tones and gilded accessories, maybe with her hair painted the rich brown of the real Faustina. The statue might be wearing an actual diadem on her carved marble curls. And the air would be thick with the scent of imported incense or floral oils anointing the statue’s surface. 

Roman statues were multisensory experiences; they looked alive and even smelled “heavenly.” This was all part of maintaining the illusion (or reality, to believers) that the deified woman’s spirit was present and watching. If you were deemed a goddess, you got the full spa treatment for eternity. By

In the end, the Romans believed the gods got around to everyone deserving. An empress could ascend swiftly on a funeral pyre’s eagle, or slowly on the wings of her lasting reputation – either way, divinity was destiny for the worthiest of Roman women. –Wally

---

MORE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO

Gio Swaby’s Fresh Take on Textile Portraits

Frida Kahlo in Paris

Standards of Beauty (and Ugliness) in African Art