Another language


Yesterday another head emerged… in clay. This time a woman, as timeless as the male head I sculpted last week. The male is now covered in plaster and will become a black cement carving that will last a few lifetimes, unless it is destroyed. Humbling to think that an object you create will survive you and possibly survive a few generations of offspring. Will anyone find beauty in it a century from now?

With the interesting distraction of the plaster process, I was not able to finish the female, and must leave it for a week as I set off for an Ayurvedic retreat. I am looking forward to experiencing this alternative medicine that has been practised much longer than our Western one. I expect I will learn much about my body type, food requirement and energy etc. There will be yoga – hopefully not too early in the morning. Actually, I know that is wishful thinking as most yoga practitioners are of the irritating early bird variety! Once up, I will reconcile myself with the fact that I can swim, breathe fresh ocean air, read and snooze.

Back to the heads. What I realize when I sculpt is that I am speaking to myself in a language that escapes my intellect, which surely is a good thing! It’s a language that is not anchored in time and space, that has nothing to do with my everyday life and small irritations. What I can decipher is an invitation to explore and discover more about deeper images in the psyche, and follow guideposts to some other reality. The images that come so easily to the surface are like ancient drums echoing. What I know –from where, I don’t know — is that each sculpture is a word in a long poem that will reveal its significance one day when I am ready.

Well, what can I say, this ancient civilization is starting to affect me in more ways then one!