“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”—Rilke
9x12 Acryla Gouache on paper
“Thunderhead: the Collective Unconscious”
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate”—Carl Jung (born July 26, 1875) 🧬🧠 ☁️ 🔑 🎂 happy belated!
I love that a “thunderhead” is really just another name for a Cumulonimbus cloud (Latin for “heaped rainstorm”) I know my brain feels like that once in a while. 😉 Cumulo can also mean "to accumulate or make complete' if you feel like taking the analogy further.
First I see sunfish, great unfinished mass…
Circling slowly clockwise,
I laugh in humor and horror at once…
Which part of me is this strange beast
this surprised-looking tailless pancake head
that dives down deep to feed
Than back up to the surface into the sun
where the birds pick parasites off it’s skin?
It offers it’s spoils to the sky before moving down again,
this is its gift, this is its life.
In the Heart of a Whale
I had a dream, years ago, before my daughter was born, and while I was living in England, away from a view of the ocean, that stayed with me for awhile. In it, a whale and its calf had escaped from a captivity-tank (maybe Sea World in San Diego) and was trying to find its way north in the Pacific Ocean. I recognized that they were swimming fairly close to the shore by the area I’m from and where I live again now. At the time, I wasn’t having a lot of dreams that I remembered, so the fact that it stayed with me was something. The images bothered me. I felt concerned for them, as they seemed ill-equipped for the journey and the mother didn’t seem to know where she was going, except that it was toward her natural state of freedom. We visited the Museum of Natural History shortly afterward and I saw a model of a pilot whale (the type it may have been in the dream) hanging from the ceiling. I had no answers but I think that compressed the image in my mind a little more.
A couple years later, visiting California, I went whale watching for the first time. By now, my daughter was born and I felt like I was breastfeeding 24-7 (I may have been) which was at once life-affirming, bonding, and frustrating. When I saw the magnificent shape of a blue whale moving through the choppy water, I remember first thinking: “THAT is a big breastfeeding creature…isn’t that what female mammals are?” In that moment, I related to the whale as if we were sisters—it was a powerful connection for me.
The captain of the boat educated us with this fun fact: The heart of a blue whale is the size of a Volkswagen Beatle. Incredible! I happened to own a Volkswagen (a blue 1968 Karmann Ghia) of my own when I was young…it was my first car and took me through many adventures over the years. I was very attached to it, and still would dream of it years after it was gone.
When I began dreaming again of the sea earlier this year, I remembered these dreams and put them together. In this painting, the car holds my daughter and myself, and the mother whale is bringing us through the depths of the ocean as her child stays nearby. I don’t know where we are going, but I feel safe. She may not know where she is going either, but she’s moving away from captivity and she’s knows how to survive and protect her child.
Whenever I see an image of a mother whale and child together, I point it out to Justine. Now she also thinks of this as our special spirit-image as a duo.
When I see an image
Across the Universe
"What you seek is seeking you."—Rumi
9x12” acryla-gouache on paper
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.” —Sylvia Plath
“Life is a journey up a spiral staircase; as we grow older we cover the ground we have covered before, only higher up; as we look down the winding stair below us we measure our progress by the number of places where we were but no longer are. The journey is both repetitious and progressive; we go both round and upward.”
—William Butler Yeats
“Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.” Khalil Gibran
“I’m Every Woman”
I noticed that a statue of a goddess that I saw in a museum recently had missing hands, arms, and head. That’s not so unusual in itself, but it struck me as an archetype for the Wounded Feminine in ourselves and our culture/world. Even if we hold her up as a mirror, she has so many faces because it’s been shattered. Our vision isn’t clear....but one gift is that it IS diverse. We can collectively heal as we look at the reflections of other faces mixed with our own. I’m interested in brokenness as the path to wholeness....so here’s trying to explore this theme. Hope it makes sense to someone else too. (At the very least, I’m grateful to have arms, hands, and an actual head.) As Jung said, “I would rather be whole than good.”
PS This isn’t just for women...we all have a feminine side that’s survived the wars...if only barely.
There's No Place Like Home
Echolocation (Calling All Angels)
Man (ta) Ray
Theories of Relativity
“Time is an illusion”—Albert Einstein
Theories of Relativity
“Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.”—Albert Einstein
“Duality is always secretly unity.”—Alan Watts
But There Be Monsters!
notes, April 27
“The Thinker” in the basement. Between a rock and a hard place (a phrased based on Scylla and Charybdis myth in Homer’s Odyssey) Sea Monster/Whirlpool: Major choices, both dangerous. Facing the unknown or staying in a locked house on fire? Unknown depths. Escaping the Ego. “Growing Down.”
“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens”—Rumi