Imagine a goddess worshiped not through grapes or grains but through hops. Lupulina Divina is no deity of nectar, but of fermentation, euphoria, and luminous decay.
Reclining in celestial ease, she holds a glass not of wine, but of amber revolt.
There is no drunkenness in her gaze only a sacred forgetting, a joyful surrender between realms.
Each hop cone drifting from her robes is a prophetic seed, sprouting stories of ritual, rebellion, and release.
She is the divine ferment, a goddess of pleasure and prophecy, where intoxication meets transcendence where myth brews into mythos.