Much further along now

Locked in a tower: She thinks, "I had a life. I was going somewhere. Every day I'd read: plays, poetry, novels. And I practiced my music. I lived a life of expectation. I had my eye on some boys and loved to go dancing. I was princess of the kingdom. And then one day some drunken priest my father was bar-hopping with spewed out some nonsense where his daughter's son would kill him. Dad tried to dress it up to me as some oracle wrenched from the soul of the pithian navel. But I knew priests love to plant these ideas in king's minds. It's as if they live to get fathers to sacrifice their daughters. Let me tell you about my friend Iphegenia - dead on a mountain so her father could get better gas mileage. I ask where will it end? Old men live in fear and are easily manipulated. What did Laius think? That Oedipus, a little infant, would stab him with a rattle? My parents and their friends creep me out. Here I am in a tower, reading, bored, and one day I look up and there's Zeus. I just knew it was him, even though he was as slight as a beam of light, all golden, and it seemed that gravity couldn't hold him. He moved swiftly and covered me with warmth. I was in heaven. But Zeus: he never writes, he never calls. What is he up to? I need him now because dad suspects. I'm sure of it. I'm five months along. I'm over eating and having mood swings. Yesterday I tore up a bunch of books and made a large paper mache glider to fly off the top of the tower. What was I thinking? I'd have broke my neck. More and more I ask why, why can't we talk; why can't we talk and dad could be a grandfather to the boy? Is talking too much? Must we be subject to the drunken mouthings of oracular nitwits? "

What shall I do for post 100?

Danae, a young woman imprisoned by her father, a king, who is told that his daughter's offspring will kill him. So the king puts his daughter in an impregnable tower. Zeus, who likes a challenge, beams down on Danae in a ray of golden light. Soon she conceives Perseus, the kid who grows up to decapitate the Gorgon, Medusa. Perseus indeed kills his father - but he refuses the kingdom. I've been working on this painting for months and it's nearing completion. Here are two details: her face, reflecting golden light, and her hand, covered with blood.
Only recently has this painting become Danae. At first I began an abstraction, intending the painting to be about lines of color. And then this figure appeared. I attempted to create a visitation or a three graces - but the composition wouldn't work right. Now I've settled on Danae, and it fits.
I've loved this story for years. Along with the Leda story and the Europa story it forms a trinity of Zeus stories. Zeus as light, impregnating a girl with transcendence, ratchets up the symbolism. This isn't some anthropomorphic tale but a tale that comes as near as ancient mythology can to the virgin birth.
In the story of the Virgin the Holy Spirit is often depicted impregnating Mary through the ear. At least the idea is that the Word begets the Word via audation. Nothing's easy - got to go in through the ear. Which ear? I can't remember if it matters, but probably the right ear - the left ear being sinister.
So you think a tradition would have begun of virgins wearing veils over their ears?
Danae was locked in a tower of bronze, which didn't stop her from becoming pregnant. Her father then put her and her son in a wooden chest and pushed her out to sea - but that didn't stop Zeus and Poseidon from saving her son and her.
Later myths tell of Perseus killing his father two ways: one is an accident with a discus or javelin at the Olympic games; the other is some bold intrusion into the king's court where Perseus pulls Medusa's head out of a bag and turns the whole court to stone. When I was young, hearing this story as a small boy, I loved the vengeance of the calcified court; now I prefer that the story of an accident at the games: it has that element of chance encounter like Oedipus meeting his father along the road; or like the Israelite king who hides among his army in disguise only to be killed when an archer draws his bow and releases an arrow by chance.

Apollo and Daphne

Eight years ago I painted this. Mythology gets me going - the whole gods and mortals doing incredible things, turning into trees, etc. is captivating. And here Apollo almost grasps Daphne only to be thwarted by Zeus who turns her into a tree as an answer to her prayer: "Zeus save me."
In my version Daphne turns into a field of kudzu - that's a southern twist. The woman I sold this to didn't know anything about the myth. She bought this painting because it went well with her sofa. She claimed to have lived in Pensacola, FL but when I mentioned kudzu to her, she looked at me and said, "I've never seen anything like that. I don't know what you're talking about."