Andromeda’s Dragons
a story
Good morning beautiful readers. The light is deep gold here in northern California, and the land is very dry. We are at the far edge of autumn, the (please please) very end of the dry season, when everything is brittle and brown and glowing.
When the dog and I go up the hill for an evening walk before sunset, we see V’s of geese returning for the winter. And Venus is there above the pine ridge, regaining her vestments moon by moon. Just after the next new moon in early November, she will sit beside the waxing crescent after sunset and regain the fourth of her vestments, the vestment of the Heart— her carnelian necklace. (This is according to Venus’s astrological mythos, based on the story of Inanna.)
This heart-vestment, darkening time feels like a good time for a story. Because of the gathering autumn, because of the star on the evening horizon reminding us how to have hearts of ever widening compassion, because of the storms of injustice and violence and rising climate chaos.
Particularly, it feels like a good time for a story about dragons.
About the dragons inside women.
About the story of starry Cassiopeia, before she became the constellation of a punished queen hung upside down in her throne forever in the night sky, and particularly of Cassiopeia’s powerful daughter, Andromeda.
So today, I’m sharing my short story, “Andromeda’s Dragons,” originally published in my book The Venus Year, with all of you. At the very end of the post you’ll find a recording of the story read aloud from my Kalliope’s Sanctum podcast, for those of you who prefer to listen that way.
And at very end of the post you’ll also see my reading recommendations for my favorite of all fictional dragons….
But first, a couple of exciting announcements.
My dear friend Nao Sims— women's sacred dance teacher and lifelong lover of old stories— visited with her beautiful, almost-four year old daughter in the beginning of October. We managed to record a podcast episode one night after her little one was asleep, in order to discuss some burning ideas we’ve been wanting to share about the rhythms of female myth-telling, why fairytales are kind of like soup-recipes, and why they were the only thing Nao wanted to read while she was pregnant.
This conversation is the first in a series we will be recording throughout the autumn, for you to listen to and ponder around your own hearths, in advance of some new offerings we will be launching next year through our Erato Sanctuary.
In the next episode, we will look more closely at one fairytale in particular, diving more deeply into the themes explored here. Stay tuned!
I’m currently deep in the writing and filming of a big course for Advaya that I’m teaching this winter, called WHEN WOMEN WERE THE LAND. All the lectures in this course of mine are pre-recorded (they are going to be like lecture-movies, friends, the team of Advaya film editors is so amazing and everyone is working to make this into something really special, it’s such an honor and pleasure to work with them), and there will be weekly live discussions and prompts throughout.
Here’s a little description. You can read more on Advaya’s website, and also stay tuned for a more in-depth reveal of the weekly content for this class closer to the first session, which is December 8th!
In this 7-week course with Sylvia Linsteadt, we journey back to the matrilineal roots of Old Europe, a world where the earth and the female divine were revered. Through myth, archaeology, and nature connection, we’ll rediscover pre-patriarchal cultures that celebrated mothers, children, and the cycles of life. Explore the work of Marija Gimbutas, European fairytales, and ecological practices, and awaken your ancestral memory, weaving the past into the present with creativity and deep reverence.
And now, without further ado, our story…. of women, and of dragons.
A N D R O M E D A' S D R A G O N S
What chain, oh my grandmothers, have we been carrying since the day Andromeda was bound to a rock by the sea? They say she was chained because of her mother Cassiopeia’s vanity. She was not. She was chained because of her mother’s power, and all that her mother’s power opened in that city by the sea where King Cepheus ruled.