His Bedding of Flowers and Bones

Edward Burne-Jones, Theseus and the Minotaur in the Labyrinth, 1861-2

Depictions of this sort do little to undo my unfounded and completely sentimental conviction that the Minotaur is somehow a child to whom appalling things happen because of his monstrous appearance and the somewhat psychotic conclusions it generates in the minds of those in charge of his person. He’s a bull, yet he’s a monster, so surely he will not subsist on grass alone; they decide his diet will therefore consist of nothing but virgins.

This week, associations between flowers and bones have been, if not scattered across my bedroom floor, at least at the forefront of my mind, so if nothing else this post is proof that I am capable of something resembling consistency, yay.