Friday, December 12, 2008
Heart, Rib Cage
My friend Mary Beth is on my mind. She's a beloved witchy woman soul whose heart is open right now for surgeons. Often I think of art as a spellprayer. The first art was sympathetic magic: A woman in a cave scratches out an image of her mate who is hunting. She hopes the paintings bring good luck and food. Men are awed at the women's round bellies and breasts, how not-mothers bleed with the moon, so they make them into goddess and carve a Venus into the rock. I want my little heart doodle to stretch to my Mary Beth and hold her like an earth mama holding ancient artists in a cave.