Black Unicorn Rising

Alice’s Wonderland Deconstructed


Life as a Void Consisting of Only Time and Eternity

Black Unicorn Rising

An exploration of Emptiness, Nothingness, Inner and Outer spheres/realms of being

Do women occupy the inner sphere/sanctum of purity? Is the enclosed female space a sign of sanctity whereas the open hinged male space the spirit of adventure? Are women contained by societal definitions of femininity resulting in us being “Birds in Gilded Cages”.  What is the extent of the power we have as women to define ourselves?

Katrin Sigurdardottir’s piece “Boiserie” explores many levels of existence. The enclosed room a replica in white of the Hotel de Cabris located in the Wrightsman galleries of the Met brings to mind a sense of the finite and infinite. As I observed visitors who thought they would be able to see their friends on the other side of the windows, they quickly realized the panes were security glass, meaning one could look in but not out. The mirrors in the room gave the impression of infinity by reflecting endless images. Like the worlds of many French society ladies and nobility they seemed to have everything, yet they had nothing as they were just “birds in a gilded cage” with their pleasure and privilege brought to an end with the French Revolution in 1789.  This first walled in room gives a sense of arrested development. Its progression halted within the pure white room encased in what appears to be rather dingy plywood.

Viewing this exhibit is like looking into a surreal kaleidoscope minus the rainbow, where white is not just the absence of color but has the ability to reflect all around and within it.

Because I as voyeur and viewer share the same gender as the artist this exhibit propelled me into rethinking what it means to be a woman in our society.  Gender has been defined as a social/cultural construct.  Gender can be said to be the attributes and aspects which society says make up the male and the female.  Women even women of wealth and privilege who resided in the royal courts of Europe have always been considered inferior beings.

How are we taught to see masculinity and femininity in our society?  John Berger in Ways of Seeing, writes that, “A man’s presence suggests what he is capable of doing to you or for you.  His presence may be fabricated, in the sense that he pretends to be capable of what he is not.  But the pretence is always towards a power, which he exercises on others.

By contrast, a woman’s presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her.  Her presence is manifest in her gestures, voice, opinions, expressions, and clothes, chosen surroundings, taste – indeed there is nothing she can do which does not contribute to her presence.  Presence for a woman is so intrinsic to her person that men tend to think of it as an almost physical emanation, a kind of heat or smell or aura.” (p 45-46)

A woman’s space like that depicted by Sigurdardottir’s white room replica of the Hotel de Cabris, is closed and everything about her is directed inward.  Men keep her physically, financially, and emotionally.  Women’s gestures, attitudes and social discourse has been developed and defined within very narrow parameters.  However not only does she watch herself but she watches herself being observed.  She becomes both the subject and object of the male gaze.  As Berger says, she is both the surveyor and the surveyed (p. 46).  In Berger’s definition, men act, women appear (p. 47).

This brings up the issue of stratification of different types of social classes of women.  Women young and old often seek to emulate or embody the concept of glamour.  The behaviors of movie starlets, models, entertainers, and socialites no matter how vulgar, demeaning or degrading have become the order of the day.  However the glamour of media stars is without substance.  Many women failing to reach these unreachable aspirations die ignoble emotional, mental and physical deaths grasping for the brass ring but coming up empty.

Even female garments are designed to create restriction.  Foundation garments such as girdles, corsets or spanx, garters, shoes too tight to be comfortable or heels too high to walk in, suggest a type of captivity.  All are attire that suggest bondage and domination.  A woman is encouraged to be a walking work of art in our society.  Fashion magazines tell her how to dress diet and style her hair.

And what of the women disenfranchised by physical, emotional abuse, domestic violence and sexual harassment.  What of their space.  Can it be recreated or refashioned to include them in the dialogue or are they forever locked out via twin fiends named shame and guilt.  I speak for those women whose space is closed, confined, where the doors are locked and the keys are in the possession of the oppressor.  Once I was a captive of my abuser who physically left me Thanksgiving Day 2007 but the damage he did to my mind, emotions, spirit and psyche has never left me.  He left his imprint on my soul.  The brutes of shame and guilt entrap me by refusing to grant me the ability to trust or love completely.  My only hope at this late stage of my life is that once I transition from this realm into whatever lies beyond I’ll be granted the gift of forgiveness.

I know my absolution will never come from the church or the so-called “body of Christ” as the “church” as a religious entity sanctions male dominance thus the abuse and violent behavior that stems from a patriarchal system.

At present I longingly look through the bars of my prison at those women given pardon and liberty all the while awaiting my next evolution into that great beyond where I will be exonerated, set free and love will once again make an appearance in my life.  But in deference to my ex-boyfriend I dedicate this song to him.

Alice in Wonderland—Bigger, Larger, Smaller, Tinier

Grace Slick & Jefferson Airplane

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WANNqr-vcx0

The extended accordion like rendition of the Hotel de Crillon room also located in the Wrightsman galleries gives a sense of expansion yet all the while the free hinges connecting the smaller and larger doorways gives the viewer the perceived ability to fold up and pack away in a suitcase this wonderful display of abstraction.

The larger doorway is a portal to the imagination, the rooms or cubes within our own minds.  Have I like Alice in the story eaten the cake labeled “Eat Me” and grown too large, then drank the potion labeled “Drink Me” and shrunk too small.  Or like the Alice in the Grace Slick song taken the pills that trick my mind into thinking I’m continually expanding and contracting.  But I like the many visitors to the exhibit calmly walk through happily appreciating the aesthetic qualities of the piece.

These two exhibits are located on the Mezzanine of the Modern Art section of the Met museum.  And just what is the definition of Mezzanine: “A partial story between two main stories of a building.   An intermediate floor between main floors of a building.”

The interpretation of the two Wrightsman rooms is an intermediate, betwixt and between what is real and what is contrived. Similar to the Alice’s trip into Wonderland where reality changes from moment to moment and fantasy is the order of the day.

Can reality be perceived only through the five senses or is reality much like sexuality and/or gender roles only a social construct which time, space and cultures eternally deconstruct and evolve to fit each generations needs.

But I have journeyed from 16th century France, where kings and queens once ruled by divine right only to be deposed through revolution into the 21st century where we read in the papers, on the web and see on television current megalomaniacs and dictators forced to cede their power and authority to the once frightened and enslaved masses who have reclaimed empowerment.  Perhaps since both pieces are constructions of wood paneling or plywood that in itself signifies the falsity of temporal riches.

These two rooms pose questions on gender, race, class and social inequalities than possible answers or solutions to aforesaid dilemmas.  Or perhaps queries that come to mind have within them never-ending possibilities and infinite resolutions.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

www.metmuseum.org

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Thoughts on Love, Romance and the Song of Solomon


Thoughts on Love, Romance and the Song of Solomon

As February comes to a close and Valentine’s Day has passed my thoughts this morning brought me to the Old Testament, specifically the Song of Solomon.  Why would erotica be part of the Old Testament canon? But the Song of Solomon is more than just erotica; it is a love poem, a testament to love, desire and sexual passion between a Black man and a Black woman. Most Christians have been taught that this book is an allegory, a representation of Christ and the church, which could be one interpretation, after all I’m no Bible scholar, and for me the sensual descriptions of the lover’s bodies reveal its true nature.

The way her face, breasts and stomach are captured in vivid detail by the Beloved leans more towards Eros than agape.  The Song of Solomon is the longing of two lovers separated, yet joined desperately seeking to be physical reunited to once again ignite the flame of fervor, and quench the fires sexual craving between them.

In my mind the lovers are King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba who visited Solomon to inquire of his wisdom and as the story is sometime told, the two became lovers, their lovemaking resulting in the birth of a son once Sheba returned to Ethiopia. Yes we all know that Solomon had many wives and concubines, too numerous to count, however Sheba was different.  Queen Sheba of Ethiopia was intellectual equal, one who not only desired wisdom but was able to communicate the wisdom, knowledge and understanding of her people, her culture to this Hebrew King, thus she became the desire of his heart.  Two minds on the same plane, not jockeying for position, become one.  When a man meets the feminine version of himself he seeks to unite bringing together one side of his mind with the other.  Solomon’s greatest error was in allowing distance and time to come between him and the woman God meant for him to reign with in this life.  Imagine how history would have been changed if these two great leaders had joined energies.  What a mighty force two people, one flesh to contend with!

Unchained Melody

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-idDbIfGvw

A Queen’s Choice


A Queen’s Choice

Presented with knaves and pawns declaring lust concealed in oily slick voices of undying love,

I the Queen chose to Love a Warrior and a King.

And to that Lord & Master declared my complete and total allegiance.

To Him gave I My Heart, My Soul, & my body.

Sirocco


 

 

 

Canadian Snow Geese -- Rochdale Village
Canadian Snow Geese — Rochdale Village

Sirocco

Canadian Snow Geese grazing on hoarfrost pre-Spring grass

Gust filled kinky kinaps whipped by February’s foretaste of March’s bitter winds.

Whipped by winds I sink deep into muddy rivers of melting snow so lightly trod upon by winter fowl. Wishing I could remove protective shoes from freshly pedicured feet feeling cool frosty mud oozing up between bare toes.

Primordial bog clay slime squishing up between exposed toes. Reconnecting to Mother Earth. Rooted like a tree into the receptive ground. I lift my hands and arms high as branches of worship to the Great Earth Mother Goddess of the Universe.

 

Swaying in the mild Sirocco.

Snow Geese
Canadian Snow Geese

Voices……The Ecstasy and Pain of Tattoo Stigmata


Voices… The Ecstasy and Pain of Tattoo Stigmata

I have Two Souls Inside My Body

I have history that lives in my mind and runs through my veins..

Scars, history written on my skin.. Each tells a story, a chapter in my life…The pain is a catharsis for my sorrow and grief.

 Messages external expressing internal Passions.

An advertisement to the world of who I am and where I’ve been…

I have Two Souls Inside My Temple…

 One soul seeks the way of purity and light…

 The other wants the hedonistic pleasures of sex via penetration of the needle…

I become one with Goddess/God through self imposed stigmata.

The endorphin rush provides a realignment of the Spiritual and the Sensual.

Orgasm is everywhere the needle plays upon my naked exposed skin. The ultimate ritual and rite of passage conduit joining spirit, soul and body.

Decoration releases repression inviting you to lovingly caress the images on your body.

Riding the cusp of carnal side by side with fluidity spiritual sexual nature.

Ink Drawings open up new realms of possibilities—giving external order to internal chaos.

What others see as desecration or destruction is actually the eternal construction and deconstruction of self. …

Are we not all a mixture of the sacred and the profane? Alas are sexuality and spirituality mutually exclusive…I think not.