I've cycled through a lot of different religions. It eventually lead to me accepting that I wasn't a seeker, confused, or agnostic but an atheist.
One of the most pronounced experiences was at a black mass in someone's basement. I sat on a pillow in a dark temple filled with incense smoke and illuminated by some candles obscured on the altar by a nude woman who supposedly embodied a goddess figure. She certainly seemed to fit the bill. As the priest chanted powerfully in a tongue which was obscure to me at the time, my consciousness momentarily slipped outside of my mortal shell. I saw myself sitting there with a tattoo on my left arm. In big gothic letters it read 'Born to Blaspheme'.
So here's one of my favorite bits of blasphemy that I painted a couple of years ago.
And a bit of inspirational blasphemy from my teen years.
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