January 28, 2023

Aztec Calendar – Flint Trecena

The tenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Flint for its first numbered day, which is also the 18^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Flint is Tecpatl, and it’s known as Etz’nab’ in Yucatec Maya and Tijax (Knife-edge)in Quiché.

The day Flint portends great riches and pride but also destruction and punishment. It’s almost logically associated anatomically with the teeth. The usual day-sign (or glyph) for Flint is the sacrificial knife with a face, including teeth (fangs), and sometimes divine ornaments. The flint knife is personified (or deified) as a nagual of Tezcatlipoca, Itztlacoliuhqui,Curved Obsidian Blade, god of stone, cold, sin, and human misery, but also of objectivity and blind justice. (See vignette at top center in Icon #19, and the Blade will be met again soon as a patron of the 12^th trecena Lizard.) The day Flint’s patron is Chalchiuhtotolin, the Jade Turkey (See Icon #3), also a nagual of Tezcatlipoca and patron of the power and glory of young warriors, particularly of the famous Jaguar Warriors of the Night. He’ll be seen later as patron of the 17^th trecena Water, the “Turkey” in his name relating to the little known, brilliantly colored ocellated turkey.

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE TRECENA

A patron of the Flint trecena is Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of the Land of the Dead (Mictlan) the most prominent of several deities of death, 5^th Lord of the Night, Lord of Number Six, and patron of the day Dog. (See Icon #10.) Images in Codex Magliabechiano show that the Death Lord’s worship involved ritual cannibalism. Counter-intuitively, in the Aztec view, skulls and skeletons were symbols of fertility, health, and abundance, a sentiment still evident in the Mexican holiday Día de los Muertos. Souls of those who die normal deaths (i.e., are not ritually commended to some god’s heaven), must climb eight hills and cross nine rivers in four days to reach Mictlan, an empty place of darkness. The owl (as a symbol of sorcery and the night) and vile insects like spiders and millipedes are closely associated with Mictlan.

Another patron of the trecena is Tonatiuh, god of the current Fifth Sun (Four Earthquake), whose visage reputedly glares from the center of the Stone of the Suns. (Also see him in Icon #16 in company with the lunar goddess Metztli.) In the creation of the Fifth Sun, a young god named Nanahuatzin leapt into the cosmic conflagration to become the sun (Tonatiuh). Lord of Number Four with a Quail as his totem bird, Tonatiuh rules the idyllic Fourth Heaven for the souls of heroes, warriors killed in battle, heart-sacrifices to ensure the continuation of the sun, and those dying in childbirth. I assume that means both babies and mothers, so the five warrior spirits, the dangerous Cihuateteo, probably dwell in the Fourth Heaven as well.

AUGURIES OF FLINT TRECENA

By Marguerite Paquin, author of “Manual for the Soul: A Guide to the Energies of Life: How Sacred Mesoamerican Calendrics Reveal Patterns of Destiny”
https://whitepuppress.ca/manual-for-the-soul/

The theme of this trecena is Sacrifice and Separation. The symbols of knife, knife-edge, and flint represent the opening energies of this period, a time-frame tending to highlight sudden change. The flint’s dramatic sharpness and flashiness can manifest itself through “shocking” events, often involving conflict or dualities between opposing forces, as reflected by the trecena’s patrons (life-sun vs death-darkness). Although separation and difference is a strong theme at this time, these energies can also be the spark to initiate new thoughts or actions.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the Etz’nab’ trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE FLINT TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 18^th day of the current vientena, 1 Flint, this trecena continues with 2 Rain, 3 Flower, 4 Crocodile, 5 Wind, 6 House, 7 Lizard, 8 Snake, 9 Death, 10 Deer, 11 Rabbit, 12 Water, and 13 Dog.

Again there are several important days in the Flint trecena:

One Flint (in Nahuatl Ce Tecpatl) is the ceremonial day-name of Huitzilopochtli, Hummingbird of the South, the principal god of the Aztec nation. It’s also an alternate day-name for Mixcoatl, the Cloud Serpent, a major deity of the Mixtec who retained much cultural and doctrinal independence from the imperial Aztec. For the official cult, Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca were born of the creative pair Ometeotl on other days, but for another they were born on One Flint of the celestial goddess Citlalicue, the Star Skirt, as depicted in Plate 32 of Codex Borgia. As a year-name, in the Aztecs’ deep mythology/history One Flint was the first historic year when the Mexica came into power in Tenochtitlan and thus a symbol of their imperial destiny. In that function it appears near the center on the Stone of the Suns.

Four Crocodile (in Nahuatl Nahui Cipactli) is another of Xiuhtecuhtli’s ceremonial day-names (besides One Rabbit as noted in the Snake trecena).

Five Wind (in Nahuatl Macuil Ehecatl) is the Mixtec day-name of Tlaloc.

Nine Death (in Nahuatl Chicnahui Miquitztli) I read somewhere long ago was either the day-name of Mictlantecuhtli himself or of another important Death Lord. Whichever…

Thirteen Dog (in Nahuatl Mahtlactli Ihuan Yeyi Itzcuintli) in Maya mythology as 13 Ok was associated with the birth of their Maize God Hun Hunahpu. Even after several centuries, the Aztecs probably associated the day with their own maize god Centeotl. (See the Grass trecena.)

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

Several of the surviving so-called Aztec codices (some originating from other cultures like the Mixtec) have Tonalamatl sections laying out the trecenas of the Tonalpohualli on separate pages. In Codex Borbonicus and Tonalamatl Aubin, the first two pages are missing; Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios are each lacking various pages (fortunately not the same ones); and in Codex Borgia and Codex Vaticanus all 20 pages are extant. (The Tonalpohualli is also presented in a spread-sheet fashion in Codex Borgia, Codex Vaticanus, and Codex Cospi, but that format apparently serves other purposes.)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

As described in my earlier blog The Aztec Calendar – My Obsession, some thirty years ago—on the basis of very limited ethnographic information and iconographic models —I presumed to create my own version of a Tonalamatl, publishing it in 1993 as Celebrate Native America!

When I made my version of the Flint trecena back around 1990, I didn’t know about Tonatiuh being another of its patrons and simply focused on Mictlantecuhtli. As usual in that uninformed time, I relied heavily on Codex Nuttall for image (and posture), working with regalia from various figures. At least I knew him as patron of the day Dog and invented an appropriately canine headdress. As Death Lords go, I think mine shows a good bit of skeletal glory.

Aztec Calendar – Flint trecena – Tonalamatl Balthazar

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Flint trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

In this trecena, we encounter the sun-god Tonatiuh for the second time: He was the primary patron of the earlier Death trecena on the right side of the panel. There he wears vaguely different regalia and is in the classical “dancing” pose, but in both of these images his red face-paint pattern is the same. The main differences are in their pendants and the thematic flints in this one’s headdress. This one’s odd “flower” on a stalk must mean something about this trecena, and the unusual version of speech symbol (cuciatl) likely does too.

Here Tonatiuh is on the left side of the panel, but I don’t think that means he’s necessarily the “secondary” patron. Though on the right side, Mictlantecuhtli may not be really the “primary” patron. Considering the auguries of this trecena, these two deities probably share primacy, balanced as they are on the flint’s knife-edge of opposing forces.

As the only image of Mictlantecuhtli in the tonalamatl, this one is outstanding in its gruesome glory. I particularly love his medusa-like locks with stars which probably imply that he’s a Night Lord. The pointy thing in his headdress, his usual ornament, is almost irrelevant in view of his standard bare skull (with spots of rot). Besides the surreal eyes in the skull, the detail that really gives me the creeps is that long, pointy tongue! Less disturbing is the fountain of blood rising behind him. We’re all familiar with how bloodthirsty death is…

In general, the iconography of figures in Tonalamatl Borgia is superbly detailed, if often badly obscured by damage to the pages. The lower part of this page has suffered terribly; particularly the original details of Mictlantecuhtli’s jaguar throne are barely discernible. Consequently, this re-creation is improvised from the blurred confusion of splotches and lacunae. I settled on a combination of the Diaz & Rogers imagination and that in the anonymous facsimile, both of which came up with an inexplicable fat fish.

I can only guess at the fish’s significance: Maybe those other artists intended it to relate to the eerily similar stylized human heart in sacrifice scenes like that in Codex Magliabechiano, p. 133:

Heart-sacrifice Scene from Codex Magliabechiano

Viewing the area under high magnification, I can almost see the blur as a skull with gaping jaws like those of the Death Lord above, which would make sense since the Lord often sits on a skull or has one in his “bustle” (like mine above).

Such speculation aside, I won’t even guess at the meaning of the tasseled square figure and flag-like item with patterned piece that hang in front of Mictlantecuhtli. But the central scene is unmistakably a ritual sacrifice by drowning, tying right in with the trecena’s other theme of sacrifice. Both patrons watch with obvious approval of the ritual, but one wonders why.

The soul of the drowned sacrifice won’t be going either to Tonatiuh’s idyllic Fourth Heaven or to Mictlantecuhtli’s desolate Mictlan, but to the joyful Eighth Heaven of Tlaloc, Tlalocan. I suspect that the act of sacrifice itself goes to keeping the Fifth Sun up in the sky as well as to slaking the blood-thirst of Death. In this context, it’s tempting to suggest that as he’s Lord of Number Six, Mictlantecuhtli’s miserable Mictlan might actually be the Sixth Heaven, so to speak…

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Flint trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

In Codex Telleriano-Remensis, the left-hand page of the Flint trecena with Tonatiuh is missing, so this image is based solely on the Codex Rios copy which goes wild with his divine regalia. With the major sunburst on his back as an unmistakable identifier, he lacks Borgia’s red face-paint design, likely because in the Rios image his whole body is dark red. I’ve chosen a ruddy flesh tone to avoid losing detail in monochrome darkness and have changed only the awkward length of his arms and angle of his scepter, which may be a version of the Fire Serpent.

However, the right-hand pages with Mictlantecuhtli still exist in both codices, the original and copy being almost identical in detail of regalia, skeletal limbs, and partially hidden skull beneath. But in Telleriano-Remensis, there’s a skull in his “bustle,” and in Rios (as here) it’s a dog’s head to indicate the day of which he’s patron. The circular orange items may intend marigolds, which are still considered a flower related to the Underworld.

In this Yoal image, I’ve changed the Death Lord’s ghastly brown and black visages with skeletal jaws to give him the human face of his bust above (top row, fifth from left) as Lord of the Night since they already share many details of headdress. As I’ve discussed in a blog “The Faces of Death,” this “living” face of the Night Lord is a break with the iconographic tradition of his face being almost everywhere else a skull. Another unusual detail is his blue-peaked cap—for some reason just like that of Xiuhtecuhtli in the first and tenth positions.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Flint trecena

The patron deities in the Tonalamatl Aubin are the usual suspects—with a few differences from the preceding Flint trecenas. On the left, Tonatiuh has no throne and only a few red marks on his face, and part of the regalia on his back has been omitted, apparently for lack of space on the page. Oddly, he has only one arm… Tonatiuh now wears a recognizable pendant but has no other identifiers—except for the partial sun-symbol below. On the right, this Mictlantecuhtli also has a “living” face as well as fleshed-out limbs, and at least the pointy thing in his headdress is familiar. (I can’t imagine what the Aubin artist had in mind to make his left foot black.)

The central scene of sacrifice presents a curious variation. The victim clings to a “tree” of some ceremonial sort, apparently to eventually sink into the water and drown. I wonder why part of the “basin” was painted green and about that bundle beside it with someone’s hindquarters sticking out—quite puzzling. Even more puzzling are the two snakes, the brown living one with Tonatiuh and the clearly defunct white one under Mictlantecuhtli. But there’s no one to ask…

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Flint trecena

The patron panel for the Flint trecena in Codex Borbonicus explicitly shows the ordeal nature of the drowning sacrifice. Here the victim clings to a smooth pole, possibly even a greased one, until sliding down into the water to provide an entertaining public spectacle. The attendant patrons “dance” in celebration of the ritual. This short-armed Mictlantecuhtli on the right has both skull and skeletal limbs, as well as a mop of dark hair with stars.

On the other hand, this Tonatiuh on the right isn’t as recognizable; his Fire Serpent scepter is no sure identifier. Rather than a sun-symbol, the semi-circular thing on his back looks more like that strange thing on Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli in the Snake trecena, but this one has an out-of-place skull on it. Even the semi-circle at top center isn’t a sun symbol, but one of the night, relating to the Night Lord Mictlantecuhtli. Apparently, the patrons are considered much less important than the central sacrifice scene.

Meanwhile, the profusion of other items in this panel suggests other considerations. Take for instance the vignette on the upper left of a person half-engulfed in some container, which harks back to the “packaged” body in the Aubin panel. When a motif appears again in separate situations, one has to assume that it has important symbolic significance—and when it’s repeated like the two blue creatures (also seen before) or the two pots of water. Those repetitive blue symbols around the pole of sacrifice surely aren’t there for gratuitous decoration, but I’m at a total loss for their meanings.

Note the little spear-bearer on the lower left. I’d bet he’s there to indicate the Flint trecena with his flint spearhead. However, I can’t explain the presence of that Venus-related scorpion over his head. It’s the same as the one with the Morning Star in the Snake panel. Has the Borbonicus artist gotten his dogmas mixed up? As a grace note, check out the little snake hovering over Tonatiuh’s head—reminiscent of that Aubin snake with him. But there’s no one to ask…

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Flint trecena

The Codex Vaticanus patron panel for the Flint trecena is a slight rearrangement of what we saw in the Borgia panel, switching sides for the patrons but adding nothing new. The original panel was laid out with much wider spaces, squeezing off parts of Mictlantecuhtli’s regalia like what may have been another “pointy thing” in his headdress. For convenience and aesthetics, I brought the elements closer together and touched up several broken lines and blotched colors. Again, the central ritual sacrifice seems of exceeding importance, and once again the victim’s drowning is being graciously assisted. After all, his death will keep Tonatiuh turning in the sky, and Mictlantecuhtli will be happy to take his bones home to Mictlan.

This survey of the Flint trecena’s patron panels certainly corroborates Dr. Paquin’s main themes of sacrifice and separation and well illustrates canonical (if at times confused) iconography across the various codices. Stylistic differences ultimately don’t really matter all that much.

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s eleventh trecena will be that of Monkey, its patron being Patecatl, god of medicine as well as of intoxicants like pulque and psychedelic herbs. Stay tuned.

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

December 26, 2022

Aztec Calendar – Snake Trecena

The ninth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Snake for its first numbered day, which is also the 5^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Snake is Coatl, and it’s known as Chikchan in Yucatec Maya and Can in Quiché.

For the Aztecs the Snake symbolizes mystical power, and it’s probably no accident that it was associated with the male genitalia. The patron of the day Snake is Chalchiuhtlicue, goddess of flowing water (see Reed trecena). Images of the snake are frequent in the codices simply as reminders of divine power. It’s often a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent, and the core element of the divine weapon wielded by many deities, the Xiuhcoatl or Fire Serpent.

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE TRECENA

The principal patron of the Snake trecena is Xiuhtecuhtli, the Lord of Fire—or alternatively, of Turquoise (a homonym). As the latter, he is the lord of time and the sacred calendar, the Turquoise Year (tonalpohualli), in which capacity he determines mortals’ day of death and watches over departed souls on their journey to Mictlan. Also lord of the blue sky of day, Xiuhtecuhtli symbolizes the unfathomable, the limitless, unity, and completion. In Aztec astronomy, he’s lord of the Pole Star, the center of all things, and spindle of the universe. In addition, he’s both the Lord of the number 1 (with the Blue Hummingbird as his totem bird) and first Lord of the Night. Historically, Xiuhtecuhtli is a new, younger version of the ancestral deity of fire, Huehueteotl (the Old God). His birth day-name is One Rabbit.

The secondary patron of this trecena is Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (Lord of the House of the Dawn), a nagual of Quetzalcoatl representing the planet Venus as the Morning Star. He’s symbolic of re-emergence, of the triumph of life over death. Meanwhile, he’s a dangerous deity, his gaze very destructive for both mortals and gods. Legend has him shooting a dart at the Sun, Tonatiuh, who throws it back at him but hits instead Itztlacoliuhqui (Curved Obsidian Blade), the god of stone and cold, a nagual of Tezcatlipoca. After Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli periodically disappears from the eastern morning sky to descend into the Underworld, he’s replaced in the western evening sky by Xolotl, the Evening Star. The Lord of the number 12 with (logically) the Quetzal as his totem bird, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli’s birth day-name is One Reed.

AUGURIES OF SNAKE TRECENA

This dynamic trecena’s theme is emergence and liberation. The energies associated with this trecena are strongly aligned with Lifeforce, Fertility, Sacred Authority, Justice, Liberation, Cyclical Regeneration, and the promulgation of higher knowledge. A sense of new vitality or awakening to new ideas often accompanies this time frame, suggesting that transcendent events, possibly of a world-shaping nature, could manifest during this period, opening up the realm of new possibilities.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the Chikchan trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE SNAKE TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 5^th day of the current vientena, 1 Snake, this trecena continues with 2 Death, 3 Deer, 4 Rabbit, 5 Water, 6 Dog, 7 Monkey, 8 Grass, 9 Reed, 10 Jaguar, 11 Eagle, 12 Vulture, and 13 Earthquake.

There are four important days in the Snake trecena:

One Snake (in Nahuatl Ce Coatl) was noted in the Florentine Codex as traditionally a favorable day for merchants/traders (pochteca), travelers, and armies to “set forth to far lands.” In that spirit, the Codex indicates that One Snake was often the occasion for declaring of war. It is significant that in 1521 this was the day the Aztecs surrendered to Hernan Cortés and his conquistadores at Tenochtitlan after being defeated in a fierce battle.

Seven Monkey (in Nahuatl Chicome Ozomatli)is traditionally associated with wealth and prosperity. This day-sign appears on the Aztec Calendar Stone, below the central face.

Eight Grass (in Nahuatl Chicueyi Malinalli), according to some sources, is an alternate birth day-name of the goddess Chalchiuhtlicue, generally called One Water (again see Reed Trecena).

Nine Reed (in Nahuatl Chicnahui Acatl) is the birth day-name of the Earth Goddess Tlazolteotl, Goddess of Filth (see Deer Trecena). On this day, gifts of cacao, precious feathers, and flowers are offered to her.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

My version of the Snake trecena portrays Xiuhtecuhtli in a wild interpretation of his image in Codex Borbonicus, mixing a fancy snake on his back from the Stone of the Suns with a flaming crest much like Quetzalcoatl’s plumes in the Jaguar Trecena. Obviously, I took the turquoise and fire homonyms to heart in the coloration and wisely incorporated his traditional pendant plaque. I really should have made the bird totem on his forehead blue, and I have no idea where I got the shield design with the sun motif. Though I hadn’t seen any other images of the deity, I think my fantasy makes a very convincing Lord of Fire.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Snake Trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

The Snake trecena page in Codex Borgia is the busiest one in its tonalamatl and raises a huge number of questions, both mythological and iconographic. It definitely begs a narrative.

Let’s start with the primary patron (the big red guy on the right), Xiuhtecuhtli himself enthroned and looking very pensive or stern/aggravated. In the original, his image is quite deteriorated, his regalia blurred and spotty. In their restoration of the Codex Borgia (Dover Publications, 1993), Gisele Diaz & Alan Rodgers have been inventive in restoring his ornaments, some of which I’ve used; another anonymous facsimile made other choices; and I’ve made my own in some places.

The best example is the feathery thing on his back, the top of which in the original is basically blank (or worn away?). Diaz and Rodgers fill it with rows of short lines; the other facsimile intimates a spiral of same. My close study of the blankness found tiny indications of a possible second row of lines, but I’ve left the rest blank. Another problematic motif is that odd thing on his forehead, maybe a bird, which would make sense as his totem, but it looks nothing like any other bird I’ve ever seen in any of the codices.

When we consider the mass of material adjacent to the deity, things get really mysterious, like that slanting bundle of jaguar hide and spotted blue strips (with a surreal bird’s head) running behind Xiuhtecuhtli’s shoulder. We’ll see something similar in the Vaticanus patron panel later. Does it mean something that the water (from above) flows into the bundle and deity, rather than away from him as from Tlaloc in the Rain Trecena and Chalchiuhtlicue in the Reed Trecena? The two arrows in the stream are almost to be expected as power symbols.

However, that ornamental scorpion is a major enigma. Since the scorpion apparently has had obscure connections with the planet Venus ever since Maya times, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli being the Morning Star is probably the key. The scorpion’s sting would be a fine material metaphor for the Morning Star’s divinely destructive gaze. Also, I’m puzzled by the patterns of squared and spiral water flowing at/onto Xiuhtecuhtli.

Briefly, the other major enigma is the central vacant throne, the jaguar pelt indicating that there should be some deity sitting there. Who?

Now let’s talk about the secondary patron with the tongue-twisting name, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, sitting gingerly on the jaguar seat on the left. The only evidence of his identity is the headdress with the long spokes and feathery crown. Otherwise, he’s just an innocent little blond guy with standard Aztec finery. His hands-in-the-air gesture certainly must mean something like, “I know nothing about it!” “What did you expect?” “Who cares?” Or perhaps a hundred other probably dismissive comments relating to the vacant throne or to the flood dousing the Lord of Fire. Between Xiuhtecuhtli’s pout/glower and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli’s nonchalance, some story is definitely going on in this page, but it would take an Aztec priest to provide an exegesis.

I must confess that I made the personal choice to color the Morning Star’s “mask” in a pleasant light blue as opposed to the depressing grey or brown to be seen in images that follow. The little flag on his nose-piece is actually indicative of Tezcatlipoca, but this might just be a convenient decoration. Meanwhile, his predominantly white body and clothing are most unusual for deities in Codex Borgia. Maybe the artist simply left him unfinished—too busy with Xiuhtecuhtli? In any case, we’ll see more detail in later images of this god.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Snake Trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

Speaking of detail, the image of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli on the left in this Telleriano-Remensis and Rios vision has them in spades, including a little One Reed identifier hovering overhead. The toothy feathered snake-monster on his back probably underlines his relationship to Quetzalcoatl (whose birth day-name is Nine Wind but sometimes called One Reed). As they will also occur in later images, the tear-drop motifs in his headdress (and in the snake’s) are other identifiers. Note his brown mask and mostly white raiment. Here his hand-gestures seem simply formulaic for his “dancing” or sitting posture on the standard place symbol/glyph.

On the right, Xiuhtecuhtli also “dances” or sits on a place symbol and wears ornate regalia. His headdress is very like that on his bust as Night-Lord (fifth from the left in the top row). The Telleriano-Remensis page with his image is missing, and I’ve had to base this representation on the uninspired Rios copy, supplementing it with details from elsewhere in T-R—like the fiery Xiuhcoatl he wields in his raised right hand. In his image in both T-R and Rios for the Pachtontli (Teotleco) solar vientena, Xiuhtecuhtli wears a flaming serpent on his back, but I thought that would be a little too much here. However, in both of those images one of his feet is the mystical water-fire symbol (atl-tlachinolli), which I’ve inserted as the Fire Lord’s right foot. Note his red and black face-paint as in the Borgia version—and in the following examples.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Snake Trecena

Once again, the patron panel in Tonalamatl Aubin gives one serious aesthetic pause. It’s got most of the canonical elements, but they seem viewed through a strange (psychedelic?) lens. Of course, there’s fair reason to believe that psychoactive drugs were involved. Here, the patrons of the trecena have switched sides and seats, and the head of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (recognizable by the brown mask and teardrop ornaments in his headdress) is grossly distorted. Borgia’s vast flow of water has now become a mere spurt as part of the Morning Star’s headdress—another instance of the atl-tlachinolli water-fire symbol.

Meanwhile, Xiuhtecuhtli on the left has the standard red and black face and a fire-snake “cape,” and he holds his blue bird totem, which is by no stretch of the imagination a hummingbird. And by the way, I sort of hoped to see an empty throne and miss the scorpion.

Most startling is the fact that Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli has been flayed—sacrificially skinned! (In his Rios copy he is also flayed, but in the T-R original, only his hand shows the red stripes. I chose to ignore those details in Tonalamatl Yoal as too much information.) Here there’s no way around the ritual flaying of this deity. In fact, in several Borgia images of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli he’s been skinned. In Vaticanus there are also many such images, as well as a section of five panels with the flayed deity attacking various people, places, and even a jaguar. In each of those he wears an odd eyepiece representing his dangerous gaze. (These five panels also appear in Codex Cospi in much different style and similar detail but without the flaying.)

Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli: Borgia (l.); Vaticanus (r.)

The consistent representation of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli as flayed suggests a close relationship with Xipe Totec, the Flayed God, whom we will see later as a patron of the 20^th trecena, Rabbit. His virtues of fertility, renewal, and spring are broadly discussed in the “The Flayed God” by Roberta H. and Peter T. Markman (HarperSanFrancisco, 1992), who note that several other deities are also shown in the codices as flayed. I’ve found many skinned images of Tlaloc, Mixcoatl, Tlazolteotl, and even some of the Cihuateteo and Ahuiateteo.

I think the flaying of victims and deities must have been a transcendent sign/symbol of holiness—like the ubiquitous western tradition of the halo—and suspect that Xipe Totec, who usually only wears their skins, is the “high priest” of the bloody sect. Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli seems to be the principal flayed god in the pantheon. I wonder why he, the Morning Star, would be chosen for such grisly glory. Maybe because he’s a nagual of the great god Quetzalcoatl?

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Snake Trecena

That being said, in the tonalamatl of Codex Borbonicus, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (back on the left side) is once again white-skinned in largely white clothes—maybe meaning his Borgia image was in fact completed. He wears his usual brown mask and has teardrop designs in his headdress, appearing in a constellation of motifs: water flowing at/onto the Lord of Fire (with arrows); some kind of a watery link (like the odd item at the center of the Aubin panel) to a throne (vacant but for a pile of ritual offerings); and what looks like a spider but is really a scorpion, both arachnids. Under high magnification one can see a tail/stinger curved up across its body. This is all stuff we already know from the Borgia panel, but I’ve never seen that surreal blue pointy-nose mask-thing on the back of his head before. Might it relate to his dangerous gaze?

With all that symbolic paraphernalia, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli seriously overshadows Xiuhtecuhtli, who sports only that fire-snake on his back (the model for my own trecena above), the beautiful Borbonicus-blue totem bird on his brow and plaque-pendant. The artist apparently didn’t care much about this supposedly primary patron, grotesquely distorting his torso and shrinking his arms and hands—in contrast to complex and careful execution of the secondary patron.

As a post-script to this description, note the snake in the lower left denoting the trecena and the blue creature on the lower right. Whatever its species, it’s the same as the blue animal held by Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli in the Aubin panel. Like the vacant throne and scorpion, such repeated motifs surely must mean something integral to the implied narrative.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Snake Trecena

The Codex Vaticanus patron panel for the Snake trecena is obviously badly “weathered,” and I’ve tried to touch it up, restoring most faded and broken lines and filling in some of the color, except for the spotty flow of water. The patrons have switched sides once more, Xiuhtecuhtli in a divinely complex headdress brooding over Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, who’s appropriately flayed now. We’ve again got the main narrative motifs, including Borgia’s strange staff with curls (but no weird bird’s head), the flow of water with scorpion and arrows, and the vacant throne—clearly a retelling of the same old story. The staff and flow of water being placed subtly in the foreground in this panel tells me they’re probably the main theme of the implied narrative.

But here the scorpion- and arrow-laden flood (apparently summoned by Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli) no longer flows at/onto Xiuhtecuhtli, instead getting “swallowed up” by the staff itself. Perhaps that motif is the Fire Lord’s symbolic “spindle of the universe” neutralizing the flood—or maybe the smoke-like staff is a stylized column of his divine fire? If the latter, then we’re again looking at an enormous atl-tlachinolli, which I’m told is a symbol of war. Does that mean the Morning Star is challenging the Pole Star for supremacy (the empty throne) of the sky? Or maybe that’s way too metaphysical.

Let me try another reading: perhaps this is all about Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli trying to take over the primary patronage of the trecena from Xiuhtecuhtli, in the Borgia panel sitting nonchalantly on his modest jaguar seat but ready to jump onto the empty throne, while Xiuhtecuhtli scowls at him and fends off his flood. In the Yoal panel, the Fire Lord is still on the prominent right, but One Reed displays imposing glitz with his serpent-monster cape. The two have switched sides in the Aubin panel, where Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli now sits on the primary throne, with Xiuhtecuhtli on the secondary jaguar seat. Back on the left side in Borbonicus, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli with all his paraphernalia has basically usurped the panel from the battered Xiuhtecuhtli, having physical possession of the throne at least, and in Vaticanus he holds off the Fire Lord with the huge war symbol, the trecena’s throne now his for the taking.

Such are my amateur shots at playing Aztec priest, whether or not either of these stories is true. Either way, the roles of primary and secondary patron of this trecena aren’t exactly clear-cut, not that it makes a great deal of difference.

The flayed Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli is the main evidence I see of Dr. Paquin’s ancient Maya themes for this trecena of fertility, emergence, and liberation. Xiuhtecuhtli’s divinatory significance for authority, justice, and higher knowledge is nebulous. And my tentative readings have little to do with any Maya themes. After the several intervening centuries, I wouldn’t be surprised if the later Aztec iteration of this trecena’s themes might be substantially different than the Maya. Perhaps now it’s about confrontation, ambition, and power. After all, the Snake’s all about power, One Snake’s a great day for a war, and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli is well known as a very aggressive deity, a holy terror. Maybe Xiuhtecuhtli represents the unified center of reality, and the bellicose Morning Star represents the antithetical force of chaos and anarchy, another elemental dichotomy like water and fire. Maybe not…

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s tenth trecena will be that of Flint, its patrons being the existential Lord of the Land of the Dead, Mictlantecuhtli, and the mighty Tonatiuh, God of the Fifth Sun. Stay tuned.

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

December 7, 2022

More on the Lunar Bunny

Besides for my motto, I’m indebted to the alley cat Mehitabel (“Archy & Mehitabel” by Don Marquis—1928) for stating our existential problem: “the eternal struggle between art and life.”

In early September I got word I had to move out of my penthouse apartment on Alicia Street. That same day I arranged with my daughter to rent the house she owns on Gilmore Street next door to her place. Moving there took some three months, meanwhile putting my projects on the back burner. Said projects included the ninth in my series of re-creations of trecena pages from the Aztec calendar (see the eighth, the Grass trecena) and a third short story about the old man dancing (see the second story “Better Buy a Dozen”).

Shortly before Thanksgiving when I’d finally gotten on top of the domestic trauma, I came down with Covid, fortunately only a mild case of exhaustion and congestion, with some ten days in isolation/recuperation. Off and on during the month, I managed to play with a few pixels on the Snake trecena re-creation from Codex Borgia (see “The Aztec Codices”) and to sketch out a couple paragraphs on the story.

“Clean” again (and resettled), I jumped back into the artistic fray, already making good progress on the Snake trecena. In addition, yesterday I posted a blog on 12/6/22 in the Aztec calendar as the day Ce Ollin (One Earthquake), when I became Pilzincoyotl (the Young Coyote), a deity of dance and nagual of Xochipilli (the Flower Prince).

While we’re on the subject of the current trecena in the Aztec calendar, I note that this Friday, 12/9/22 will be the day Nahui Xochitl (Four Flower). That’s the day-name in my private universe for the Sixth Sun—as proclaimed in my post “The Old Queen’s Proclamation,” which means we will have completed four cycles of the new era. You’re free to celebrate as you will this day of hope for a beautiful new world.

Now let me add some Aztec information that my devoted readers may have missed. Nearly four years ago in 2018, I posted “Ancient America-Asia Coincidences” about the Mesoamerican concept of a Rabbit in the Moon. At that point, I was working on Icon #16 (for my YE GODS! coloring book) and presented my drawing of the full moon:

Back then I was intending that icon to represent the god and goddess of the moon, Tecciztecatl and Metztli, but early last year (1/21) I discovered that I’d been mistaken (see my blog post “To Err is Human”)—that the god in the Codex Telleriano-Remensis whom I’d used for a model wasn’t Tecciztecatl but Tonatiuh, the god of the sun. Oh, well…

After that, back in May 2022, while working on the Death trecena re-creation, I discovered that the calendrical day-name of the Rabbit in the Moon is apparently 12 Rabbit! That day comes up in the current trecena on 12/17/22—a great day to celebrate the lunar bunny:

How’s that for truly esoteric information!?

December 6, 2022

Divine Dance

In the Aztec calendar today, December 6, 2022, is Ce Ollin (One Earthquake) and therefore a very special day for me. Here’s why:

I’ve often enough run on about my love of dance and long Terpsichorean history—ever since the pudgy age of ten dancing squares. I t’s been seventy years now of twinkling toes and many styles in the interim, also amply discussed elsewhere in ethnic detail. For the past thirty years, I’ve danced (mostly by myself) in a variety of gay bars—the only place one could usually find good dance rhythms—and four or five years ago discovered ecstatic dance in a peaceful, ceremonial environment. One moves as moved by the music, and the resulting ecstasy can be of a very spiritual nature, or at the very least psychically exhilarating.

As a reasonably logical consequence of my decades-long fixation on Aztec mythology and iconography, I began in my dance to personify Aztec deities. First, for some years, it was, Xochipilli (the Flower Prince), god of arts, etc. His concocted image in my old calendar book has gotten a lot of attention, and it is exceptional, if I do say so myself. Last June I drew a new image of Xochipilli for Gay Pride 2022, also often viewed and praised ever since. Also exceptional, this image was my ecstatic avatar for most of the past summer.

Oddly, my concocted image of Huehuecoyotl (the Old Coyote) has been at least as popular and even had its copyright infringed—truly sincere appreciation. (But I don’t believe in copyrights anymore.) Among other spiritual and corporeal things, he’s the god of dance, and in August, I found myself dancing him instead—like the image of him in my Icon #6 for the YE GODS! coloring book:

*My Vision of Huehuecoyotl, the Old Coyote*

At times I’ve even danced Five Flower, another god of dance and music and a manifestation of Xochipilli. A couple weeks later, I got to feeling instead like a descendant of this famous Huehuecoyotl—like a new deity named Pilzincoyotl (the Young Coyote)?

One night in an exceptionally divine dance, I manifested Pilzincoyotl with rattle and pennant, enacting the image I’ve been drawing of an Aztec dancer. For the meditative afterlude of tonal crystal bowls, we leaned along the wall, and he revealed our divine lineage: Seems we’re a composite nagual (manifestation) of Xochipilli and Huehuecoyotl, born of their well-known romantic liaison, on April 26, 1942, with the ceremonial day-name Ome Acatl (Two Reed). That means the god Tezcatlipoca (the Smoking Mirror) of the same day-name is our patron-godfather.

Naguals only mature after they’ve lived a full cycle of 52 standard years. Then we became a full-fledged nagual in 1994—right when I went back to a regular regimen of dancing. Our formal divination was by Tezcatlipoca on the day Ce Ollin (One Earthquake) in that year, ordaining us as Pilzincoyotl (Young Coyote), spirit of dance. A half-cycle later (26 years) in 2020—just before the onset of the pandemic—we ceased being Young Coyote and became an official deity of dance named Quetzalcoyotl (or Quetzal-Coyote, the Quetzal being an exotic plumed bird). According to our day-name, we’re also worshipped as Ollintecuhtli (Lord of Motion, esp. Earthquakes—when the earth itself dances).

One evening divine Quetzalcoyotl danced in waving quetzal plumes and displayed our power (inherited from Huehuecoyotl): to transform into all sorts of animals. We prefer dancing as birds, like the majestic Cuauhcoyotl (Eagle-Coyote) with striped pinions sweeping high across the sky. Hummingbirds, though mini-minions of mean old Huitzilopochtli (Hummingbird of the South), are quite fun to dance, flitting dizzily around the floor. We don’t enjoy dancing as dogs—they’re such slavish creatures and smell as bad as crazy Uncle Xolotl (Evening Star). Though obscenely limber, they sadly lack agility and physical grace. Once we danced a big, feathered snake, impersonating Uncle Quetzalcoatl (Quetzal-Serpent) in sinuous undulations of flaming plumes. Then, since Quetzalcoyotl had never seen one, we danced my vision of a Kwakiutl raven, rejoicing in our obsidian wings.

Many evenings now, Quetzalcoyotl and I have danced and hopefully will for many, many more. On a recent evening, he revealed that at our ordination as Pilzincoyotl, we were also designated the deity of the rainbow, Cozamalotecuhtli. When I eventually finish drawing us as the colorful Pilzincoyotl dancing in the Flower World, I’ll draw our self-portrait as Quetzalcoyotl in plumed magnificence.

Please don’t take my remarks about naguals as a sign I suffer from psychotic delusions. They’re not delusions but illusions, sur-realities. (Besides, reality itself is simply a construct of illusions.) You may also call my illusions of divinity psychotic, but they’re perfectly harmless. I don’t need anyone else to worship or believe in me. Just knowing I’m a god is plenty good enough. Precious few folks realize that they’re in fact deities.

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September 2, 2022

Aztec Calendar – Grass Trecena

The eighth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Grass for its first numbered day, which is also the 12^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Grass is Malinalli, and it’s known as Eb’ in Yucatec Maya and E or Ey in Quiché Maya.

According to references I found long ago, for the Aztecs the day Grass signified penance and self-flagellation as an offering to the gods; though it may be no reflection on such suffering, the day Grass is anatomically connected to the bowels. The patron of the day Grass is Patecatl, the god of medicine (herbology), healing and fertility, and surgery. A pulque deity like his wife Mayauel, he’s the god of intoxication by hallucinogenic mushrooms, peyote, and psychotropic herbs such as datura (jimson weed), morning glory, and marijuana, as well as of plants used in healing, fortune telling, shamanic magic, and public religious ceremonies.

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE TRECENA

There’s unanimity that the principal patron of the Grass trecena is Mayauel (the aforementioned wife of Patecatl), a maternal and fertility goddess connected with nourishment who personifies the maguey plant, a member of the agave family. (See my Icon #9.) Besides fibers for ropes and cloth, the most important maguey product is the alcoholic beverage pulque (or octli). As a pulque goddess, Mayauel is the mother of the Centzon Totochtin (400 Rabbits), patrons of drunkenness by all forms of intoxication. (Drinking was generally only permitted in ceremonies, but the elderly were free to drink whenever they wished.) Her day-name is Eight Flint.

On the other hand, there’s considerable confusion about the secondary patron of this trecena. In most tonalamatls the male personage accompanying Mayauel bears no identifying emblems, but in the related Telleriano-Remensis and Rios codices (sources of Tonalamatl Yoal below), it’s unambiguously Centeotl, the god of maize, the 4^th lord of the night and the 7^th lord of the day.

AUGURIES OF GRASS TRECENA

This trecena’s theme is vitality and fertility. Given that both patrons are oriented towards celebration, this period encompasses energies related to abundance and the promulgation of life. Many born during this time frame may easily tap into the generative and celebratory nature of these energies through feasting, dancing, and pleasure-seeking. Although both vision and empowerment are associated with these energies, caution might be needed to avoid issues created through excess, particularly during the intense final days of the trecena.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the Eb’ trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE GRASS TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 12^th day of the current vientena, Grass, this trecena continues with 2 Reed, 3 Jaguar, 4 Eagle, 5 Vulture, 6 Earthquake, 7 Flint, 8 Rain, 9 Flower, 10 Crocodile, 11 Wind, 12 House, and 13 Lizard.

There are several important days in the Grass trecena:
One Grass (in Nahuatl Ce Malinalli) is the day-name of one of the tzitzimime (star demons), evil spirits who devour people during solar eclipses. The goddess Itzpapalotl is the principle tzitzimitl, as well as the patron of the Cihuateteo (as discussed earlier in the Deer trecena), which may indicate a relationship between these two categories of supernatural beings.

Two Reed (in Nahuatl Ome Acatl) is the day-name of the creator god Tezcatlipoca, though in his various manifestations other day-names are sometimes cited. As Ome Acatl (Omacatl), he was seen as patron of celebrations, often shown seated on a rush bundle symbolic of his role as the god of banquets. Two Reed was also one of the days when New Fire ceremonies are traditionally held (every 52 years).

Two Reed is also important for me personally as my day-name; I don’t pretend any relation to the god other than having a fondness for celebrations. In this personal context, the next day Three Jaguar (in Nahuatl Yeyi Ocelotl) is the day-name of my youngest grandson.

Five Vulture (in Nahuatl Macuil Cozcacuauhtli) is the day-name of one of the Ahuiateteo, the gods of pleasure and excess. Judging from the augury of the day Vulture, he’s the god of the joys of wealth and conversely of financial woes like poverty, (and oppressive responsibilities of great riches). Usually paired with the Cihuateotl One Eagle (Ce Cuauhtli), a goddess of bravery, Five Vulture is also one of the Macuitonaleque, patrons of calendar diviners.

Seven Flint (in Nahuatl Chicome Tecpatl) is the day-name of one of the several goddesses of tender young maize. (There are deities for all growth aspects of this staple crop.)

Ten Crocodile (in Nahuatl Mahtlactli Cipactli) is noted in the Florentine Codex as a day especially associated with wealth, happiness, and contentment.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

My version of the Grass trecena featured a Nuttall-inspired image of the goddess Mayauel, and I showed her holding out a pot of pulque, a frequent motif in that codex. At the time I didn’t know about her personification of the maguey (or about any secondary patron) and resorted to the crocodile headdress and jaguar throne of one of the Nuttall ladies (Six Wind). I at least knew enough to include a cute little rabbit as a deity of drunkenness. If I might say so myself—and I will—the page achieves a rather iconic effect.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

**Aztec Calendar – Grass Trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia**

The cultural importance of pulque is clearly indicated by the elegant, ornamented brew-pot in the center of the panel, almost overshadowing the trecena patron Mayauel on the right. She sports some intricate, unique regalia but is identifiable by the stylized maguey plant behind her. In that context, I prefer to think of these stylized realizations more as ‘surrealizations,’ not attempting a naturalistic representation but a universal image. More such ‘surrealized’ magueys will follow. So much for my half-baked artistic theory—which I would also apply to Aztec art in general.

I must confess to doing serious graphic surgery on the proportions of her legs, which in the original were so undersized that she looked like a hydrocephalic infant. Perhaps the Borgia artist’s aesthetic was impaired by drinking too much pulque? Also, I added standard wristbands to connect to the long tassels. Most curious is the blue on the lower half of her face.

As noted earlier, the secondary patron on the left isn’t identifiable by anything in his regalia, though his throne and jaguar pelt show that he’s definitely a deity. I’m impressed by the dainty, naturalistic way he sips from his bowl of pulque. Other drinkers are usually more formally posed as in this pulque party in Codex Vindobonensis (from an incomplete facsimile):

**Pulque Party from Codex Vindobonensis**

This party was likely a formal/ceremonial affair involving important personages, some even masked, who were labelled with their day-names. One wonders about the two who stir their drinks with something (a celery stick?) and must note that the standard froth on their cups appears on the Borgia brew-pot but not on the unknown fellow’s cup.

One item in the background is of disturbing significance for divination: the heart on a stick. Does this imply that heart-sacrifice is part of the pulque ritual? I haven’t seen any scholarly mention of such—or maybe it’s a mysterious emblem of the drinker? If so, it’s no help at all in identifying this secondary patron of the trecena.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

**Aztec Calendar – Grass Trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal**

This image of Mayauel on the left is based on that from Codex Rios; her page in Telleriano-Remensis is missing. Here she rises up out of the maguey, which is ornamented by odd flowers and fruits. Again, she’s shown with a blue lower face, and speaking of ornaments, her over-sized headdress (also in blue and white as in Codex Borgia) is topped with three mushrooms indicating her interest in that means of entheogenic intoxication as well.

The secondary patron in these two codices, as also noted earlier, is unambiguously Centeotl, god of maize, as indicated by the bag of maize-ears on his back. In the interest of transparency, I admit to performing radical plastic surgery to make Centeotl look realistically human on a par with Mayauel. The two original images, while very similar to each other, were both far too sketchy (and short-armed) to hold their own against the elegance of the goddess:

**Centeotl in Telleriano-Remensis (l.) and Rios (r.)**

In addition (or subtraction!), I omitted the white banner they inexplicably hold behind the fancy feathered one. Whatever it signifies, I don’t care. Meanwhile, the sloppy Rios image makes me wonder if maybe the Italian copy of the Aztec codex might have involved a number of artists, some more competent than others. The qualitative variation in Rios images is striking.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

**Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Grass trecena**

The patron panel in Tonalamatl Aubin is replete with the motifs we saw in Codex Borgia, plus some. The figure of Mayauel is enthroned with a highly abstracted maguey on its back, and part of her headdress is in blue and white, but there is only a vague indication of a blue lower jaw. Curiously, she doesn’t hold a pulque bowl but an incense bag. The pulque brew-pot appears within the night symbol at the top.

The secondary patron on the left is again unidentifiable, except that he holds the same flowered banner as Centeotl in Tonalamatl Yoal, and wears that disturbing skewered heart. Is that banner enough to signify Centeotl? In any case, there’s no awkward white banner… New are the little couple at the bottom apparently having a great party—either drinking or regurgitating. At least they add a little drama to the tableau.

**Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Grass trecena**

This patron panel for the Grass trecena in Codex Borbonicus is typically cluttered with symbolic items, among which are frothy pots of pulque, the brew-pot included in the night symbol like in Tonalamatl Aubin, a little guy on the lower right apparently vomiting, and another on the lower left with snake and shield who defies interpretation. I’m intrigued by the fat spider, a creature usually encountered in connection with Mictlan, the Land of the Dead. A good priest or calendar diviner would probably know what to make out of this mixed bag of symbols.

The image of Mayauel on the left is particularly striking with that special blue on the maguey leaves and her whole face and body. The flowers in her headdress complete the personification of the plant, and the swatch of rope she holds is another important product of the maguey. The secondary patron on the right is a puzzle. He brandishes Centeotl’s banners, the white one included, and looking like Centeotl’s in Yoal, his headdress includes a skewer with two hearts—like a shish-ka-bob. But he carries no bag of maize, so again we can’t be sure who he is. In any case, he’s a fairly impressive guy.

**Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Grass trecena**

Speaking of impressive, in the Codex Vaticanus patron panel the out-sized pulque brew-pot is even more so than even the ornamented one in Codex Borgia, what with the mystical snake coiled around its base, its decorative cordage, and the overflowing frothy head.

As patron of the trecena, the smaller figure of Mayauel on the right takes second place to the pot, sitting now (awkwardly) within the blooming maguey. Her headdress contains another blue and white crest, and her blue lower face and nosepiece look a lot like those in the Borgia panel. We can assume that a blue lower face is emblematic of the goddess. Maybe it’s a cross-cultural reference to drinking oneself ‘blue in the face?’

On the left side, the secondary patron is even less identifiable, but I love his pointing approvingly at his foaming cup of pulque. Beneath him is another skewered heart for whatever it’s worth, but the white object hovering over his head is perfectly inscrutable. Once again, we need a calendar diviner (like Five Vulture) to sort these symbols out.

Perhaps the lesson to be taken from this review of Grass trecena is that secondary patrons aren’t actually all that important, whoever they may be. Consequently, I probably shouldn’t be taken to task for omitting them from my old tonalamatl. My earlier ignorance seems forgivable now. I just wish I knew what those shish-ka-bobs are all about.

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s ninth trecena will be that of Snake, the principal patron of which is the transcendent god of fire Xiuhtecuhtli. Stay tuned.

July 19, 2022

Aztec Calendar – Rain Trecena

The seventh trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Rain for its first numbered day, which is also the 19^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Rain is Quiahuitl, and it’s known as Kawak in Yucatec Maya and Kawoq in Quiché Maya.

For the Aztecs, the day Rain signified quiet plenty and peace and was connected anatomically with the left eye. The patron of the day is Chantico, the Lady of the House, goddess of fire in the family hearth and fire of the spirit, as well as fire in the earth (volcanoes). Patron of cooking, eating, domesticity, and weaving, she represents the feminine side of life, fertility, and the waters of birth. She is also the goddess of precious things, the lady wealth and jewels.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE TRECENA

Without exception, the principal patron of the Rain trecena is Tlaloc (God of Storms), bringer of rain, lightning, thunder, and general weather and responsible for both floods and droughts. (See my Icon #20.) He was an important deity of unknown name in ancient Teotihuacan and revered by the Maya as Chac. A beneficent god of fertility, vegetation, and sustenance, he’s associated with springs and caves, and his worship involved child sacrifice. Tlaloc ruled over the Third Sun (Four Rain—which he destroyed in a rain of volcanic fire), and the joyful Eighth Heaven of Tlalocan. He’s 9^th lord of the night and 8^th lord of the day with the Eagle as his totem bird.

In some codices other deities appear as apparent secondary patrons of the trecena, possibly regional variants, but I’ll discuss them in their specific contexts below.

AUGURIES OF RAIN TRECENA

Generally aligned with energies that bring abundance, this trecena was traditionally associated with fertility, particularly as it related to agriculture. Since Tlaloc and Nahui Ehecatl (4 Wind) serve as patrons, with their emphasis on rain and wind, there is the suggestion (with evidence) that highly volatile, changeable, and often intense, weather-related events can occur during this period (such as Hurricane Katrina). As much as these energies were seen as beneficent catalysts for agriculture, they can often trigger great turbulence, and the events that they foment can also trigger great compassion. Ancient records indicate that individuals born under this influence traditionally could have a penchant for “sorcery.”

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. Look for the Kawak (Storm) trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE RAIN TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 19^th day of the current vientena, Rain, this trecena proceeds through 2 Flower, 3 Crocodile, 4 Wind, 5 House, 6 Lizard, 7 Snake, 8 Death, 9 Deer, 10 Rabbit, 11 Water, 12 Dog, and 13 Monkey.

There are several important days in the Rain trecena:
One Rain (in Nahuatl Ce Quiahuitl), according to some scholars, is “the day on which sacrifices were made to increase the king’s strength.” Ce Quiahuitl is also the day-name of one of the Cihuateteo goddesses who accordingly should represent peace and plenty.

Two Flower (in Nahuatl Ome Xochitl) and Three Crocodile (in Nahuatl Yeyi Cipactli) are the day-names of two goddesses who celebrate the intoxicating drink pulque.

Four Wind (in Nahuatl Nahui Ehecatl) is the day-name of the Second Sun ruled by Ehecatl, which was destroyed by wind (hurricane), its people turned into monkeys. See the discussion of Tonalamatl Yoal below for an anomalous deity of this name.

Seven Snake (in Nahuatl Chicome Coatl) is the day-name of the goddess of maize (and food in general). See the discussion of the Borbonicus tonalamatl below for more on this goddess.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

For my old tonalamatl, I used the complicated glyphs from the lobes of Four Earthquake on the Stone of the Suns as the day-signs for Rain and Wind. Meanwhile, knowing only that Tlaloc was supposed to have a black face, curious curving mask, goggle eyes, and fangs, I concocted an image of the Storm god based on one in the familiar Codex Nuttall that looked like an eagle, a surreal but unwittingly appropriate motif, with decorative raindrops. Though quite inauthentic, this image has been viewed frequently on my website, perhaps because it’s far more attractive than his authentic, fairly gruesome representations in the ancient codices.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

**Aztec Calendar – Rain trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia**

Talk about gruesome, check out this Rain trecena page from the Codex Borgia with its imposing figure of Tlaloc with black face, goggle eyes, and bodacious fangs. For some reason he’s missing the symbolic curving mask, but there’s no mistaking his identity. A question is begged by the warding gesture of his right hand that overlaps the incense bag and ritual objects—as though rejecting them. Another is why the stream of water runs toward the god (as opposed to that flowing away from Chalchiuhtlicue in the Reed trecena).

The little human figures can scarcely be construed as additional patrons of this trecena, and their significance is mysterious. Other questions also abound. 1) What are the two footprints on the ‘riverbank?’ 2) What is the strange ‘haystack’ encasing a starry night sky? (In the Deer trecena we’ve seen Tepeyollotl seated on one just like it.) 3) What is that odd packet of red and blue ‘boards?’ And 4) why does the white-faced double-headed serpent bear watery waves on its back? Your guesses are probably at least as good as mine.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

**Aztec Calendar – Rain trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal**

The much gentler Tlaloc in the Tonalamatl Yoal (on the right) is perhaps the most widely known image of the god; it’s based solely on the Rios version because that page in Telleriano-Remensis is missing. His primacy as patron of the trecena is possibly indicated by being on the right side because, as posited by David Stuart in his 2021 book “King and Cosmos,” the right half of symmetry was more important than the left. This bears out in many Borgia trecenas, but not all, and only occasionally in other tonalamatls, so it can hardly be considered a rule of thumb.

On the left and supposedly secondary side of the panel is a puzzling image of an anomalous deity which the Spanish and Italian annotations in the two codices identify as “Nahui Ehecatl,” Four Wind, who to my knowledge doesn’t appear in any other context. Perhaps it’s a reflection of the special Second Sun day-name in the trecena, but its iconographic paraphernalia suggests various deities. 1) The snake it grasps could be Tlaloc’s lightning serpent, but for some reason it ambiguously has a blooming tail. 2) The mask and oversized goggles suggest that this could be Quiahuitl, god of rain, but it lacks that god’s standard fangs. (See the One Rain day-sign above.) And 3) the top-heavy headdress is just like that of Quetzalcoatl/Ehecatl in the Jaguar trecena (as well as the basket on its back). The images in both codices are so nearly identical that they offer no clues. I have to wonder if the knobbed circle in the headband (a symbol of the planet Venus) might also include Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, Lord of the House of the Dawn, in this amalgam. In any case, this Four Wind deity as secondary patron of the trecena is of little use as an augury and would seem simply to be a religious fantasy/hallucination.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

**Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Rain trecena**

The patrons of the Rain trecena in Tonalamatl Aubin are also unorthodox. While the primary Tlaloc is shown in more or less standard detail, he’s on the left (supposedly secondary) side and slightly smaller than the other figure. Somewhere I’ve seen the larger deity on the right identified as Xilonen, goddess of flowering maize, but I don’t believe that for a moment. The two black stripes on her cheek are specific emblems of Chalchiuhtlicue, as is the water streaming from her skirt. The image is strongly reminiscent of that in the panel for the Reed trecena. In addition, the goddess isn’t holding ears of maize but, for some psychedelic reason, mushrooms. Perhaps the Aubin artist had a special reverence for Chalchiuhtlicue and included her in the panel because she was the spouse of Tlaloc, and the streaming water (seen in the Borgia panel) made more sense issuing from her eponymous skirt. Artistic license?

**Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Rain trecena**

This panel in Codex Borbonicus is nicely laid out with highlights of the special blue and a prominent, ornate figure of Tlaloc (again on the left). Here the water streams away from him, endangering the figure of an apparent nobleman instead of the common human in the Borgia panel. On the upper right is a slightly smaller secondary patron deity who could easily be the god of rain, Quiahuitl, judging by the fanged mask and snake in his grasp with its tail of rain-drop strips. Why they’re both speaking/singing must remain a mystery. Among the well-organized extraneous items, in the lower left is the small (blurry) image of Chicomecoatl, the principal goddess of maize, indicating that she’s perhaps a tertiary patron, but her image is more likely just a celebration of her day-sign occurring in the trecena.

**Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Rain trecena**

The Codex Vaticanus panel is an unsurprising mash-up of familiar elements. Its most notable feature is the prominently central ‘little guy’ perched on Borgia’s ‘haystack,’ which has become something of a muddy-water swirl—and his holding a bunch of magic mushrooms. Feel free to make what you will of these odd details for divination.

This review of the Rain trecena impresses me only with the fact that its patron is indisputably the Storm god Tlaloc. Apart from the evident connection to weather and water, Aztec dogma about this time period seems rather diffuse, confused, and fantastical—maybe from doing so many entheogenic shrooms?

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s eighth trecena will be that of Grass, the principal patron of which is the ultimate party girl Mayauel, goddess of pulque. Stay tuned.

June 6, 2022

Gay Pride 2022 – Xochipilli, Flower Prince

This month of June is Gay Pride 2022, and it’s mete and just that we parade and party. It would be great to have a patron “saint” to celebrate (“saint” being the title the dominant creed uses to replace the earlier gods of paganism). I want to glorify a patron god of gays, not a vengeful and homophobic deity whose devotees revile and condemn us.

There once was indeed such a god of gays in the distant past, beautiful boy named Antinous, who was deified by the Roman Emperor Hadrian. By sacrificing himself to the River Nile to bring his imperial lover good fortune, the divine ephebe became a god of beauty and love.

**Head of Antinous from Hadrian’s Villa**

Temples, statues, and even an entire city in Egypt were raised for beneficent Antinous, and as an honest-to-god deity, he was for a good while a strong candidate for the title of humanity’s savior—much more appropriate than the heavily marketed Messiah from Judea, who was merely (and messily) executed for rabble-rousing. The cult of Antinous was soon eradicated by righteous believers in less tolerant traditions, and I still mourn the loss.

But nowadays, as ever, it takes a lot more than an imperial decree to become a god. Anyway, beautiful Antinous probably qualifies more as a divine hero than a deity. We can always use more of them. Personally, I’m not into sacrifice and salvation (for and from what?) and prefer to revere a powerful deity with a positive attitude about being gay. It just so happens that in spite of their gruesome fixation on sacrifice, the ancient Aztecs had just such a one, a handsome divinity called the Flower Prince, Xochipilli.

This divine Prince is specifically the patron of homosexuals and an important god of fertility (agricultural produce and gardens). He’s also the god of art, dance, laughter, happiness, beauty and peace, flowers, ecstasy, sleep, and dreams/hallucinations, as well as of the sacred ball-game tlachtli. As patron of writing, painting, and song, he’s known as Chicomexochitl (Seven Flower), and as god of music, games, feasting, and frivolity, he’s called Macuilxochitl (Five Flower). That’s a rather impressive portfolio if you ask me, well worth glorifying.

Long ago before I’d ever seen any picture of Xochipilli, I drew one based on that portfolio and images of males from the Codex Nuttall—for my Aztec calendar as patron of the 20^th trecena, Rabbit. (See my 1993 book Celebrate Native America!) As an arrogant humanistic artist, I was offended by the patron of that trecena, Tecpatl (flint—the sacrificial knife) and installed the more appetizing Flower Prince in that ceremonial role in an artistic coup d’état.

My early drawing is startling for the figure’s beard, which I saw in Codex Nuttall images of the historical ruler Eight Deer, and which was a not-infrequent trait of Nahuatl males. Besides loading my figure down with stylized flowers, I added a curlicue song-symbol, the cuciatl. Even that long ago, I recognized in Xochipilli my favorite Aztec deity for a patron and adopted his image for my website banner, little realizing how in-authentic my colorful iconography is.

Now 30 years later, in the codices I’ve found several authentic images of Xochipilli, which don’t look much at all like my invention. They had no ‘literate’ language, so the codices didn’t label the deities, though Spanish annotators did—sometimes with mistakes. It happens.

The image from Codex Laud can be assumed to be of Xochipilli, judging by all the flowers and the seven dots, the Prince being the patron of the number seven and his day-name Seven Flower. In the same way, also lacking identifying regalia or insignias, the Codex Fejervary-Mayer image must be the Prince, judging from the seven flowers adorning his temple. (The round fan he holds, or whatever it is, may be intended as indicative.)

The image from Codex Vaticanus (with only three flowers) I’m taking to be Xochipilli as well, given its similarity to the former—and the fact that both enthroned figures occur in pairs with an enthroned Huehuecoyotl (Old Coyote), who is one of the Prince’s lovers. The Codex Borgia image isn’t explicitly the Prince, unless one notes the flower emblem floating by his head; but this scene occurs in a sequence of calendar days with their patron deities, and he’s also patron of the day Monkey (Ozomatli).

The much different image from Codex Magliabechiano is one of two, both with the red-parrot headdress, and I’ve relied on that motif for my recent portrait of the Flower Prince:

Those familiar with my YE GODS! coloring book will observe that I’ve extracted the central portion of my Icon #18 with the tlachtli ballcourt, worked that black-and-white drawing over a bit, and colored it in with a rainbow of iridescent hues. The psychedelic hummingbird and bee are there to suggest the surreal beauty of Xochipilli’s ecstatic heaven called the Flower World. The most iconoclastic aspects of this “icon” are his physical realism and frontal position, reflecting the posture of ancient Maya figures. I haven’t a clue what kind of flowers those are.

To celebrate Gay Pride 2022, I would like to see my illustration of Xochipilli enthroned appear on cards and in publications and become a celebratory poster or community mural—an emblem of LGBTQ+ dignity, love, and beauty perhaps on a par with our glorious rainbow flag.

I welcome entrepreneurs or afficionados to freely use the image for respectful purposes. To be frank, I’m extraordinarily proud of my modest picture, and I’d be greatly gratified for as many folks as possible to see our great gay deity—and pay the Flower Prince due homage. After all, our gods live on attention, devotion, and love.

As I’ve fortunately had the opportunity to say for some decades:

Happy Gay Pride everybody!

—and thank Xochipilli for our new freedom!

###

May 18, 2022

Aztec Calendar – Death Trecena

The sixth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Death for its first numbered day, which is also the 6^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Death is Miquitzli, and it’s known as Kimi in Yucatec Maya and Kame’ in Quiché Maya.

For the Aztec significance of the day Death, it is important to put aside the Old-World notions of death as a dire ending. In Mesoamerican philosophy, Death is a positive process, signifying the cycle of life and death, rebirth and renewal. The patron of the day is Tecciztecatl, God of the Moon (also a new patron of the trecena, see below), and the day corresponds anatomically to the forehead (skull), appearing in the codices with various ornaments. Such images are still frequently seen in art for the Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos).

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE TRECENA

The principal patron of the Aztecs’ Death trecena is the sun-god Tonatiuh, nowadays most familiar as the grimacing face in the center of the Stone of the Suns. He is the deity of the Fifth Sun, in Aztec cosmology the fifth world or era known as Four Earthquake, the day-sign for which is the figure on the Stone containing the face. In its lobes are the day-signs of the four preceding eras: Four Jaguar, Four Wind, Four Rain, and Four Water. To become the deity of the Fifth Sun, Tonatiuh, a minor god named Nanahuatzin sacrificed himself by leaping into the creative conflagration ignited by Quetzalcoatl/Ehecatl.

For the ancient Maya, the patron of this trecena was their goddess of the moon Ix Chel. This female patron deity carried over into later centuries as the goddess Metztli. With the rise of the Nahuatl culture’s Fifth Sun cosmology, the new god Tonatiuh was added to the trecena as the main patron, creating the symbolic pair of Sun and Moon. (See my Icon #16.)

However, with increasing Nahuatl dominance, specifically a misogynistic Aztec hegemony, the Moon Goddess was largely replaced in the calendar by a male lunar deity named Tecciztecatl. Another minor deity, he had hesitated to leap into the creative conflagration, and when he finally decided to follow Nanahuatzin, he was made the god of the moon in consolation. In the surviving codices, Metztli only appears once unambiguously as patron of the Death trecena. Tecciztecatl for all intents and purposes shot the Moon.

AUGURIES OF DEATH TRECENA

By Marguerite Paquin, author of “Manual for the Soul: A Guide to the Energies of Life: How Sacred Mesoamerican Calendrics Reveal Patterns of Destiny”

Manual for the Soul

This trecena’s theme of death strongly suggests returning to the source in order to regenerate. Although there is a sacrificial component, traditionally there was also a sense of luck associated with Kimi, perhaps because Kimi is associated with the idea of restoration and renewal, a letting go of restrictions in order to achieve a higher level of evolution. This trecena could be seen as a good time to step back, get rid of whatever is no longer wanted or needed, retreat to a place of calm, and allow for the renewal of spirit.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. Look for the Kimi (Death) trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE DEATH TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 6^th day of the current vientena, 1 Death, this trecena completes with the 18^th day, 13 Flint, (proceeding through 2 Deer, 3 Rabbit, 4 Water, 5 Dog, 6 Monkey, 7 Grass, 8 Reed, 9 Jaguar, 10 Eagle, 11 Vulture, and 12 Earthquake).

There are a couple important days in the Death trecena (besides 8 Reed, which is the birth-sign of my twin grandsons and two of my close friends):

One Death (in Nahuatl Ce Miquitzli), like Seven Death mentioned in the Flower trecena, was another of the highest lords of the Maya underworld Xibalba, who tried to defeat the Hero Twins. In Mixtec culture the solar deity Tonatiuh was known as One Death, sometimes depicted with Jaguar symbolism. In addition, the deity Tezcatlipoca, mentioned in the Reed trecena as patron of the day Reed, was day-named One Death in the Florentine Codex, which notes that anyone born on One Death “would prosper and be rich.”

(I have no way of knowing, but I’d bet that Three Rabbit (in Nahuatl Yeyi Tochtli) is another god of some kind of intoxication. Maybe datura or salvia?)

Four Water (in Nahuatl Nahui Atl), the 4th day, is the day-name of the Fourth Sun or era, which was ruled by the goddess Chalchiuhtlicue, patron deity of the Reed trecena, and destroyed unsurprisingly by flood.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

For my tonalamatl so long ago, I didn’t know anything about the sun-god as patron—or about the late insertion of Tecciztecatl into the calendar’s Death trecena. I’d simply read somewhere that the patron was called “Old Man Moon,” and I knew of no images of him. So, once again I resorted to the style of Codex Nuttall to concoct a figure in traditional half-kneeling position with assorted regalia. Also unaware of Aztec moon symbology, I slyly made his face an Old-World version of the “man in the moon.” In spite of these ill-informed concepts, I think my illustration for the Death trecena succeeded. At least, it gets frequent views on my website.

Though I was ill-informed about so many things, I managed to ornament the Death day-sign skull appropriately with the authentic mystical symbol called “burning water.”

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

**Aztec Calendar – Death trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia**

The Death trecena page from the Codex Borgia is a prime example of the Aztecs’ historical revisionism, presenting Tonatiuh with Tecciztecatl as patrons. The figure of the sun-god on the right is one of the more ornate representations of that deity, though with little in the way of regalia to identify him. Perhaps the blue bird’s head on his ‘bustle’ and the odd plaque-like pendant are identifiers as they occur in other Borgia images of the god, but the war-butterfly in his headdress is the same marker of divinity as we saw earlier with Tonacatecuhtli in the Crocodile trecena and Chalchiuhtlicue in the Reed trecena. His most unique detail would seem to be the curved red line around his eye with dot on the cheek—which will recur in a very similar image in the later Flint trecena, not yet re-created.

Meanwhile, the figure of Tecciztecatl on the left, possibly an elder personage, apparently has no feature to identify him. We might take the curved blue blade in his hand as symbolic of the crescent moon, but that’s a stretch of imagination. In my amateur opinion, the usurper is such a new-comer to the pantheon that he hadn’t found any iconographic insignias yet—or there’s some arcane meaning behind that ceremonial-looking blade, one better not imagined.

The assorted items in the center of the panel are mostly familiar motifs, except for the rabbit in the square, which I assume refers to the Mesoamerican vision of a rabbit in the full moon. (That was another detail I didn’t know when I drew my Death trecena.) In fact, the Maya Moon Goddess Ix Chel was depicted with a rabbit. The dot-numeral 12 might refer to either the rabbit or the flint as day-names, but both days are anomalous, neither occurring in this trecena.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of

Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Both Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios must have been of an old-believer school. As the second patron of the Death trecena, they present the orthodox lunar goddess Metztli (right). On her back she wears a stylized conch-shell, the standard symbol of the moon. In her headdress, she wears a curious band of fleur-de-lys designs that I’ve never seen elsewhere in Aztec pictography. The Rios copy is in such bad shape that one can’t really make them out.

While we’re on the subject of the moon, I should point out that some scholars of the Aztec calendar—which I’m not, just an interested artist—suggest that the 13-day “week” is derived from the cycles of the moon. Given that the lunar cycle is really 28 days, at first glance that suggestion sounds dubious, but there’s another way of looking at it. If we consider the day of the full moon and that of the dark of the moon as “nodes,” there are indeed 13 days between them, the days of waxing and waning. For a source of the trecena count, that seems as good as any.

Meanwhile, Tonatiuh as the sun-patron (left) is more recognizable here than in Borgia. Here he brandishes his usual omen-bird, a blue parrot, and sports an elegant solar disc on his back, an identifier often seen in Borgia elsewhere. You may notice that the Lord of the Night in the upper corners, Pilzintecuhtli, the Young Lord, also wears a similar, if smaller, disc. He’s the god of the planet Mercury and consequently closely related to the sun, viewed in some quarters as a nagual or manifestation of Tonatiuh.

There’s also a strong solar connection for the god Xochipilli, the Prince of Flowers—(See Icon #18 and the Jaguar trecena for a discussion of his artsy nagual Chicomexochitl.)—and young Pilzintecuhtli could be the Prince’s nagual too, or maybe just his lover. In some heretical western, non-Aztec cults, Xochipilli himself is seen as the sun-god and ruler of a joyful paradise called the Flower World, but he has no role in the canonical calendar.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

**Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Death trecena**

After that scattered commentary on Tonalamatl Yoal’s elegant patrons, we come upon them in Aubin in that tonalamatl’s idiosyncratic style, something less than magnificent or realistic. The big-plumed guy on the right must intend Tonatiuh, though without identifiers, unless you count the beribboned circle pendant, but that’s a frequent adornment on many deities. In Aztec art, both genders wore skirts, so the figure on the upper left is ambiguous—Metztli or Tecciztecatl, take your pick. Again, the big conch adjacent to “their” nose symbolizes the moon, the question-mark red squiggle representing the living mollusk notwithstanding.

The other floating objects are recognizable sketches of familiar motifs, and then at the bottom there’s that tethered cloven-hoofed creature, very like a piglet. I’m no authority, but I’d wager it’s a young peccary. With it inside a standard place symbol are two inscrutable objects, possibly hieroglyphs identifying a specific location. Is the peccary-piggie tethered for sacrifice? I assume it relates to the self-sacrifices to become heavenly bodies. Or not…

**Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Death trecena**

The patron panel for the Death trecena in Codex Borbonicus is unusual, if only for including a place-area with assorted creatures. The tethered one is clawed and patterned like a jaguar—that red stuff on his head I figure is a sign of sacrifice. There are the same markings on the poor critter being half-eaten by Tlaltecuhtli, Lord of the Earth, a devouring maw also symbolic of the entrance to Mictlan, the Underworld. Besides the delicate conch-moon, the cactus with flower and spilling water may again be hieroglyphs of location. Maybe not…

The floating miscellany of objects each symbolize something or other important, but I’m not terribly interested in them. Most enigmatic is the abstract kachina-like item at top-center that I wouldn’t mind understanding. The Tonatiuh on the right has much in common with the one in Yoal, including his blue parrot and heavy-duty pendant, but he wears no solar disc. Maybe the bright design behind his head is supposed to be one. To confuse matters further, that’s another moon-conch hanging directly over his head. I’ve also got to wonder why on earth he’s wearing Tlazolteotl’s lunar-crescent nose-ornament.

On the upper left is unquestionably a very dark Tecciztecatl, either levitating like the god he is, or with one foot touching the ground, perhaps intending night or the dark of the moon? After all, the good old conch is over there in the daytime with the sun. Immediately obvious is the god’s packet of two knob-ended staffs nicely banded and carried over his shoulder; I’ve seen similar bundles in codex scenes of a new-fire ceremony, which may have happened at night. Those spots in his headdress/crest are likely stars. Again, the circular pendant is pretty common god-bling.

**Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Death trecena**

Right up front, I’ll confess that I was bothered by the scattered and skewed images in the Codex Vaticanus patron panel and “rectified” the layout, keeping the distribution of images the same, making minor reconstructions, and repairing various lines. I must say that the Vaticanus artist(s) were rather poor draftsmen—couldn’t even color inside the lines!—but they sure knew how to cleave to dogma. Here they’ve switched the gods, Tonatiuh on the left seated on a divine jaguar throne looking all stern (and/or powerful?) His arms are painfully contorted, and those may be tattoos. But there’s no red curve or dot on his face like we saw in Borgia. He bears no identifying marks or symbols, except that over-worked war-butterfly on his forehead.

On the right, Tecciztecatl sits on a standard Borgia-like throne, definitely looking like Old Man Moon with a protruding tooth. (There are many such-toothed codex figures, especially in Codex Vindobonensis, which sadly has no tonalamatl.) Note that his headdress contains three nested flowers, reminiscent of the god’s two in the Borgia panel, whatever that may mean. The curved “rod” he clutches also echoes that ominous blue blade in Borgia. Can we hope maybe it’s just an old geezer’s cane?

The floating stuff is a repeat of the Borgia motifs—except for the dot-numeral 12 now being inarguably associated with the rabbit in the box (full of stars). I think that what we’ve got here is the Aztec day-name of the rabbit in the moon: Twelve Rabbit. It’s a good bet he’s also the patron of some kind of intoxication. Lunacy?

It was fascinating to look at how a new-comer deity usurped the title of lunar deity. And what’s more, a male! We know Alice Walker’s famous contention that all lunar deities are supposed to be female. However, I know of a Sumerian god of the moon surprisingly named Nanna or Sin in Akkadian. It’s tremendously important that Tonalamatl Yoal and its codex antecedents preserve an image of the primordial Mesoamerican moon goddess, especially this one so grand—dare I say iconic? When you get right down to it, she’s a not bad-looking woman. And now we even know the name of her pet bunny-rabbit!

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The next trecena will be that of Rain with the mighty Tlaloc, the God of Storms, as its patron. Stay tuned!

March 13, 2022

Aztec Calendar – Reed Trecena

The fifth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Reed for its first numbered day, which is the 13^th day of the vientena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Reed is Acatl, and it’s known as B’en in Yucatec Maya and Aj in Quiché Maya. For the Aztec, the reed was used to make arrows and darts, whence a military undertone in its significance. The day Reed is the symbol of personal authority and closely associated with rulers and potentates, and the patron of the day is the Black One, Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, who is one of the most powerful deities. (See my Icon #19.) In the anatomical scheme, the day Reed is identified with the heart (as the seat of the soul and/or power). The symbol for the day Reed varies between a single arrow, a bunch of them, or an ornamented “potted” plant, which can be seen in the various tonalamatls below. One just has to get used to which symbol is being used, and there can be variation within individual codices.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE TRECENA

There is total agreement that the patron of the Reed trecena is the goddess Chalchiuhtlicue, the Jade Skirt, the deity of flowing water, rivers, streams, and lakes, as well as of youthful beauty and ardor, and her iconography is remarkably consistent. (See my Icon #2.) Every stream or lake had its own local chalchiuhtlicue. As goddess of storms and forces of nature, she’s dangerous, drowning people indiscriminately. With the day-name Ce Atl (One Water), she is patron of the number 3, women in labor, childbirth, children, and motherhood, and the 5^th lord of the night.

Chalchiuhtlicue is commonly considered the wife of Tlaloc but also reputed to be the wife of Xiuhtecuhtli. From one or the other of those marriages, she supposedly became the mother of Tecciztecatl and the twins Quetzalcoatl and Xolotl, but keep in mind how dicey the family trees of the Aztec deities are. During the Third Sun, Four Rain, a millennium before the Aztecs, she may have been the Great Goddess of Teotihuacan, though I’d personally vote for Xochiquetzal in that role. Meanwhile, Chalchiuhtlicue ruled the Fourth Sun—Four Water—until she ended it by drowning everybody in a flood. Certain of her purification rites struck Spanish clergy as similar to the sacrament of baptism, but that didn’t stop them from considering her a demon.

The Reed trecena possibly has a second patron deity, Tlazolteotl, Goddess of Filth (last seen in the Deer trecena). In Tonalamatl Yoal, she appears like an abstract logo as a surreal head with no eyes, and in Tonalamatl Aubin, Chalchiuhtlicue holds what might be her head. With no evidence of her in the other tonalamatls, who knows how important she really was in this context?

AUGURIES OF REED TRECENA

By Marguerite Paquin, author of “Manual for the Soul: A Guide to the Energies of Life: How Sacred Mesoamerican Calendrics Reveal Patterns of Destiny”

Manual for the Soul

Associated with robust growing corn, the B’en trecena is aligned with strong self-determination and tenacious personal authority. Exhibiting great intensity, this trecena tends to generate events associated with significant social or political adjustment, often associated with “cleansing” or “purifying.” Individuals born during this period often have a strong sense of purpose and can become deeply involved with the world at large, with the force of their character or personal convictions forging new directions in terms of world-shifting or world-shaping. This is a good trecena for pushing forward towards one’s goals.

Further how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. Look for the B’en (Reed) trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE FLOWER TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (vientena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 13^th day of the current vientena, 1 Reed, this trecena completes it with 2 Jaguar, 3 Eagle, 4 Vulture, 5 Earthquake, 6 Flint, 7 Rain, and 8 Flower, and then starts the next vientena with 9 Crocodile, 10 Wind, 11 House, 12 Lizard, and 13 Snake.

The Reed trecena contains only one culturally significant day that I know of:

One Reed (Ce Acatl) is the birth day-name of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, Lord of the House of the Dawn, who’s a nagual of Quetzalcoatl as the Morning Star and a god of war. Some say he’s the patron of the number 12, though others say this is Ehecatl—which is just more of the nagual confusion. Some say he’s the god of the East, which would make sense—but others say Xipe Totec is the god of that direction. Not that any of that really matters… His greatest quality is having perhaps the longest name of any deity! The light of the morning star was considered very dangerous, and he’s depicted with “lightning eyes” attacking people and places.

As a historical footnote, One Reed was also the birth day-name of Topiltzin-Quetzalcoatl, the mostly mythological ruler of Tollan (Tula) and the Toltec Empire in the 10^th century. According to legends, he set sail eastward in a canoe, promising to return someday, which is what underlies the myth of Quetzalcoatl’s return that caused such confusion with the appearance of Cortez. After his reign, new rulers of Tollan used Quetzalcoatl as their name/title to ensure legitimacy.

Another important day in the trecena—significant only for me personally—is Eight Flower. It’s the day-name of my younger daughter. I’ve found out the day-names of everyone in my family so folks can enjoy more than one birthday each year. You can discover your own Aztec ceremonial day-name and a horoscopic reading by going to www.azteccalendar.com and entering your month, day, and year of birth. For instance, my own day-name is Two Reed, coincidentally the same as that of the god Tezcatlipoca, for whatever that may be worth.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

For my tonalamatl so long ago, I drew Chalchiuhtlicue based on the only image I knew of her back then—from Codex Borbonicus—using more Nuttall regalia and clearing away the poor drowning victims in her jade skirt. As a nod to her role as a goddess of motherhood, I also gave her a suckling babe, which I lifted from a nursing figure in Codex Fejervary-Mayer, probably Xochiquetzal. Note that I adopted the “potted plant” form of the day-sign for Reed. All in all, if I do say so myself, I think my vision of the goddess is rather elegant.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Reed Trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

This Codex Borgia vision of Chalchiuhtlicue is by far the most elaborate and intricate of the several images of the Reed trecena. Besides her ornate clothing, she sports a double-serpent nose-piece and an earth-monster headdress frequently seen in other images of this goddess. That odd little head mounted on her forehead is an ancient symbol of divinity inherited from the Maya, a “war-butterfly,” which appears in the headdresses of many Aztec deities. The two green lines on her cheek/jaw are also identifying marks of Chalchiuhtlicue.

Note the curious twin-peaked coiffure on the little guy on the left; it must have some significance because we’ll see other examples below. Like the seductive One House in the Flower trecena, this little woman in the middle is topless. As the Aztecs didn’t believe in brassieres, they were prime candidates for a National Geographic spread on uncivilized natives. Even great goddesses like Tlazolteotl in the Deer trecena and Chalchiuhtlicue here let their breasts swing free. For the most part men wore loincloths, but many also wore skirts over them.

Now I should explain something about this “re-creation” process. Some of the codex images only survived in rough shape, scraped, flaked, torn, and even burnt! Re-creating the images from Codex Borgia meant dealing with lacunae as in this selection of the original Chalchiuhtlicue’s earplug and parts of her headdress, where whole details had to be re-created.

—————–Earplug Section —————————————- Section of Jade Skirt

Here’s my theory about interpreting original colors that have deteriorated over the several centuries. The lower parts of the feather spray on the upper right of the earplug section were originally a green now faded to a brownish gold easily distinguished from the “real” gold of decorative details. Similarly, I’ve assumed that most of the medium-to-lighter greys started out as various shades of blue that have darkened. It’s easy to recognize the “real” blacks.

Acting on this intuitive theory, I’ve re-imagined items seen in other contexts, and reviving the greens and blues certainly makes an impressive difference in her Jade Skirt. Meanwhile, the cochineal red (made from insects!) has only faded a bit. It would be interesting to learn the vegetable and mineral sources of the Aztec colors, especially of that splendid Borbonicus blue, but I’m content with re-visioning what they once were. Besides, someone somewhere knows.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of

Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Reed Trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

In Tonalamatl Yoal, we find the most explicit evidence of Tlazolteotl as the secondary patron of the Reed trecena. I’ve used the facial outline from Rios. In the original Telleriano-Remensis, her head is only a free-floating mouth and nosepiece with the headdress.

This image of the Jade Skirt gets more explicit about the drowning danger, and here she holds a threatening blade of sorts in her right hand. In her left is a spindle of thread for weaving like those in Tlazolteotl’s headdress, which I take as corroboration of their connection for this trecena. After all, they sit side by side in the lords of the night sequence. I won’t ask why Chalchiuhtlicue’s face is red. But I will share my sneaking suspicion that these patron figures were made by a different artist than those in the preceding Yoal trecenas. Besides the intense abstraction of the head, the mouths are unusual with clenched teeth, and the Jade Skirt’s whole figure is stylistically much different. Though orthodox in her iconography and monumental in her own way, she’s not as dynamic or profusely ornate as other deities in Tonalamatl Yoal.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Reed trecena

As might be expected, the Aubin Chalchiuhtlicue is an awkward restatement of the Jade Skirt theme with two little folks being swept away in the flood. The item between them recalls the beaded band held by the woman in the Borgia panel, but it’s no more decipherable here. My guess is that the head she’s holding belongs to Tlazolteotl, and I’ll note that the floating items bear motifs like the head’s headband that recall the abstract head in Tonalamatl Yoal. The lack of ornamentation and symbolic items in the deity’s regalia is disappointing.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Reed trecena

This Borbonicus image of the Jade Skirt, while lacking the earth-monster headdress, does the goddess full justice with exuberant detail and that striking blue. Note her perfectly divine raiment in the Borgia panel as opposed to an entirely different style here. This Borbonicus goddess is arrayed in the kind of costume worn by a ceremonial impersonator of the deity—made largely of folded blue paper (origami!) with black spots of liquid rubber representing drops of water. The object in her lower left hand is most likely a rain-stick.

Again there are two little folks being washed away, one of whom has that twin-peaked coiffure noticed in Borgia, which must indicate a certain class. The shield probably intimates that she’s also a danger for soldiers. Again, my best guess is that the object in her skirt with a handle and feather-crest, also appearing in the upper right corner, must relate to Tlazolteotl. Note that here, as in the Yoal and Aubin images and in the following one from Vaticanus, Chalchiuhtlicue’s face is red. Maybe she’s angry?

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Reed trecena

This Vaticanus image has lost a lot of the paler blue in the Jade Skirt, but it ties in closely with the Borgia image with the little woman and roped box, a string of beads, and the guy standing on the end with another twin-peaked hairdo! (Maybe he’s a priest?) I can’t make out what the item in the flood under her throne might be, but I’m happy to see the goddess wearing the typical earth-monster headdress. The box-like item at top center seems to be another version of the inexplicable plumed item in Borgia.

In summation, Chalchiuhtlicue is the undisputed patron of the Reed trecena, vague references to Tlazolteotl notwithstanding. The many stylistically consistent items in her panels must surely have a much larger story to tell, but I’m no divinatory authority to unpack it.

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The next trecena will be that of Death with a pair of astronomical patrons who have a lot of dramatic back-story. Stay tuned!

February 28, 2022

Dance with Joy

We don’t know who she is, where she comes from, or why, but when Joy asks you to dance, never say no. Let her lead your body and mind into her perfect world. I’ve just come home from two hours dancing with her, and it was well worth the two years of waiting. So long in solitary confinement, albeit in the ivory tower of my penthouse, my old face hidden from friend and foe, nowhere fun to go… I could easily deal with making my own meals and soon came to prefer them to eating out. It’s not the lifting of the mask mandate that brought Joy to my dance, but the simple opportunity to dance again.

She’s had little reason for Joy to visit me these plague years, and Lord knows, there’s nothing to invite her over considering the present world situation with democracy and Ukraine under attack. Perhaps Joy dropped in on me because tomorrow is Mardi Gras! Vive Mardi Gras!

Last night, I spent a splendid while in her trance (influenced by my current obsession with things Aztec), when I felt myself a nagual (embodiment) of Five Flower, the god of music, dance, games, singing, and lots of other cool things. Here’s what he looks like in Codex Borgia dancing (on left) for Huehuecoyotl, the Old Coyote, the great god of Fun. Vive Mardi Gras!

Usually, I’ve felt myself an incarnation of Dionysus (Bacchus), and I think I’ve done a rather divine job of the imposture over the many decades of my history. Hey! I’ve just realized that Joy is probably the daughter of Terpsichore, the Greek Muse of Dance. Vive Mardi Gras!

In case you’re not familiar with my gay life or my treasured avocation, my motto is “There’s Dance in the Old Dame Yet!” I guess you could say I started dancing 70 years ago: first as a plump 10-year-old (miserable) square-dancer, and by 13, I was rocking round the clock, so to speak. My teens were ruled by American Bandstand. I won’t bore you with the many dancing styles that led up to these later years of ecstatic dance. But Joy seems to like the way this old man dances, and she really cut a rug with me yesterday evening. Vive Mardi Gras!