On Saturday evening I celebrated a festival called Mounykhia. It is held in honor of Artemis in her roles of Lady of the Beasts, and as a moon goddess. This festival is, to my knowledge, the only festival held specifically for Artemis at the full moon - her sacred day was the sixth day of the lunar cycle, and so most of her festivals would fall then. The traditional offering made to Artemis at this time would be round cakes, called amphiphontes, which means something similar to shining all around, which were decorated with little torches. It would seem these cakes were offered before the sun set, but after the moon had risen. Unfortunately, this wasn't possible in my location, as the moon wouldn't rise until well after sunset. So I offered a cake and flowers in the woods at sunset. A honey almond cake, topped with walnuts, lemon zest, and sweet goat cheese. (Goats were also a traditional sacrifice at this time, so I wanted to include some sort of goat product.) As well as a libation of mead mixed with honey and olive oil. I spent some time meditation on Artemis' Orphic hymn. Later in the night I poured out another offering of warm milk, honey, and cinnamon, and meditated on Artemis as goddess of the moon, and as light bringer in the dark. I also spent some time praying for others who had requested it. During both events, something interesting happened. I have never in my some seventeen odd years of practice considered myself a priestess. Either because I belonged to a specific tradition where being a priest held a particular meaning, or because as a solitary practitioner it seemed like an unnecessary thing to do. And yet on that night, for the first time, for some reason, I felt somewhat like a priestess. I do not particularity know what to make of that. What that actually means. It's something I'm sure I'll be turning over in my medtations for a good while.