The Devil’s Red Hot Shoes.

the devil's shoes

Someone once told me I had lost my way, not my soul. Sometimes I wonder if that is the other way round. Despite bruising, I am at heart, brilliant with innocence, but too pale. I crave colour, deep blood berry red hues seduce me.

I am famished, my furtive dreams rob, and charm me. It is the essence I desire and this generates passion, excess.

We love whom we serve. We feed on what nourishes us, even if the devil’s banquet is sweet with venom.

12 Responses to “The Devil’s Red Hot Shoes.”

  1. pandora Says:

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    I couldn’t have said it better myself.. and really I couldn’t. There is that underlying need of passion. To paint my world in brilliant hues. To lift me out of the everyday.

    Your picture is scrumptuos!


  2. nina Says:

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    My sweet love,

    We seek out what we need and what we crave, no matter what form it takes. You can never lose your soul my sweet sister, only lose sight of the beauty possessed within. Feed and drink deep my beautiful princess, and savor the flavor on your tongue, for these things can be fleeting.

    And when you dance with the devil? Make sure he doesn’t step on your shoes…

    Let passion be your guide and let the flame of your heart be the light on your path.

    All my love,

  3. Ice_Princess Says:

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    Perhaps neither your soul nor the way has been lost. Only the direction has changed and others see it as a loss of direction. I will soon be posting a series on what is lost and found and how others try to define these things for us, I just haven’t up and found the courage and reasonings with which to do it. The words have also been lost to me lately. Anyway, I wanted to you to know I did read the post and felt moved to say, nothing is lost only different.

  4. orchidea Says:

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    We tend to overanalyse because we lack the courage to walk on, heads held high, in pursuit of the unknown. I don’t believe in the way, just as I don’t believe in clear-cut solutions to complex issues.

    I wish for you, me and everyone in a similar situation a merging of ways, a merging of passions and the courage to stay whole in the tempest and be true to ourselves.

    Love, my sweetness,

    orchidea xxx

  5. Magdelena Says:

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    Ladies, my thanks for your generous and considered responses, here and in private.

    I have been asked what meaning lies beneath these words. The Devil’s Red Hot Shoes is another name for the popular myth ‘The Red Shoes’. It is also known as ‘The Girl Who Would Dance’.

    I couldn’t find a good link to this tale, most offer Hans Christian Anderson’s sanitary reworking of the story. In so doing, he changed the core, for it’s appeal is to the wild woman, the criatura.

    Essentially the story is one of temptation, addiction, abduction and loss, of traps, starvation, obsession and of dancing out of control. It’s about the price we pay when we trade our instincts for fools gold.

    The best discussion is offered by Clarissa Pinkola Estes (Women Who Run With The Wolves) and is summed up well in these words, from that book:

    “Life and sacrifice go together. Red is the color of life and of sacrifice…Problems arise when there is much sacrifice but no life forthcoming from it all. Then red is the color of blood-loss rather than blood-life.”

    I agree with orchidea, there is indeed a risk of overanalysing where courage fails us. However, there is also merit in resting on the threshold, being still in the storm. Blind faith and mindless surrender are traps too. Compliance is very different to submission.

    pandora - thankyou sweetheart, I knew you would understand.

    nina - you feed flames that others wouldn’t dare. Who could resist dancing with the devil? And curiously, during a class, I once danced with a world champion and he is the only man to have ever stepped on my toes. The best dancers can be the most brutal.

    Ice Princess - Bless you darling, you are ever loyal and kind to me. I look forward to your words, don’t be shy about mailing me when they find you.

    orchidea - what can I say? I have late bottled vintage port at my feet…

  6. Kyma Says:

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    I’m still looking for the true nature of my own soul, and the path I should travel upon.. I feel sometimes like I’m lost in the abyss. My goodness that photo is pretty.

  7. Daemon Says:

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    I’ve dined a time or two at the banquet and even served the platters laden with poison and knowingly eaten of that same, tainted dish. It is the juice I crave, squeezed out of the flesh by will and nature.

    And, having been sickened by that same fruit, painted cruelly by those same colors, I still dine. To live, and enjoy it.

  8. His toy Says:

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    How is it in a few words you are able to create a rush of pure desire to gorge from the hand that feeds me? And slide those complicated red shoes on without a hint of hindsight hesitation? The imagery of your words combined with all the thoughtful responses has been soulfully fulfilling. Like you, i crave the colorful seduction. i wish and pass along to you the divinity of color, my sweet.

    xxx’s & ooo’s
    You look spectacular, by the way!!

  9. MangledTulip Says:

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    So beautiful, your words, so rife with imagery, so spare and yet replete.

    “Someone once told me I had lost my way, not my soul.”

    i’ve lost my way a time or two…each time, the journey back has been enlightening.


  10. Kochanie Says:

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    1. the female of the horse
    2. a woman (usually derogatory)
    3. a see-saw or trestle
    4. a nightmare
    5. a spectre, a hag
    6. a lunar sea

    The Metawhore prancing about in the metaphorical red shoes? There is no evidence of such a foolish girl in the photo. The graceful strength in the throat and limbs belongs to a goddess, perhaps Epona. A girl begins by loving horses. She survives by becoming one.

    At eight I thought it cruel
    to have feet instead of hooves,
    hair bound in braids
    but not an uncombed mane.

    If birthed aright,
    I would have claimed
    muddied feet, sweaty flanks
    and a neck that would not bend.

    I did not run in pastures.
    Shod in patent leather
    I trained for a race
    far too deadly to win.

    I carried many on my back,
    but none have broken me.

    I learned not to eat sugar
    out of anyone’s hand.

    Love and blessings, dearest Lena. On the eve of the longest night, I offer you these verses written years ago. Kochanie

  11. patty Says:

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    And she will serve a master who feeds her. If only what was nourishing was the thing she would prefer to choose from the buffet. The devil knows what tempts best and most. It is his power and red is his color. The luscious taste, the heady excitement of his attention, invitation and finally embrace is seductive.

    Being lost in that embrace for a little while teaches rich lessons. Knowledge of our flawed selves, weaknesses, deamons - whatever we choose to call those parts of us most vulnerable to him - can breed the building the place and cultivation of the soil from which we grow the best of ourselves….



  12. introspectre Says:

    Visit introspectre

    You have lost nothing, my dear. You know where it is. You seek it out with a one of a kind sane blood lust that bowls me over, every time.

    If you shoes fits, wear it- but wear it on your journey to that which fulfills you, not in search of something you’ve lost.

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