There are many human systems
used to dismantle the mysteries
We are guided by planets
related by genes, summed up with
numerology, spirited away by
transcendentalists, the I Ching can
read our bones, primary
perception is color,
an element, a season.
Thumbtacks on a map, I am
Yellow, #7 , Air
lean more toward runes
than the I Ching, ruled by
Venus undermined by Mars
Epona my patron diety
Jesus my dirty secret, I have
seen angels, never aliens
I don’t believe in ghosts, but
only because I don’t believe
in death. Autumn
is my season- finally
something makes sense!
But these depths I can not
with all these elegant
solutions holding us
In orbit: the networks
of climate, semiotics and
loss, long gone
feats of stars, the gravity
of extinct galaxies
Why do we still crumple
when love is gone?
How do we do not combust
with joy for ever
having existed ?
This week’s Roadside Mary can be found at the crossroads before the bridge that enters El Studiante.
Crossroad shrines are prevalent throughout western cultures. I became aware of their significance while reading Caesar by Collen McCullough. Ceasar was said to have been raised in an insular that housed the Lars of his district. There were many Lares in the pagan culture of ancient Rome but those in the crossroads, or Compitales shrines were there to bless and protect the inhabitants within their neighborhoods, and serve as a religious and social hub.
El Studiantes’ Mary appeals to me because she is fastidiously well kept, she rarely has dead flowers in her vases, and her wonderfully garish paint is frequently touched up, though I have never seen anyone near her.
But my favorite part of this shrine is the wood shard cross tied up in the direction of the roadway that passes beside her, indicating protection for both roadways that intersect at her abode. The wood and wire cross is an afterthought, a wish for a little extra blessing, made of scraps. I imagine the person who cares for the shrine lives in the direction of the formal cross.
Sometimes I would like to ask who tends the shrine, but this falls into the realm of obtrusive in my mind and would destroy the mystery. I am not completely comfortable with representation. I have difficulty taking photos of my life for this blog, and imposing myself on people’s realties by asking to photograph them, or to tell me about their lives for my own purposes, of writing or art.
It is a dichotomy in my work. I question the value of the abstract representation of object/or idea by image and words. I straddle these two worlds: the language of symbols and immersion in the physical present.
The Mary’s, with their jubilant embrace of the scared through images are a comfort to me, knowing I have company in my idol worship when it is not possible to keep myself planted in the now.
May all our roads, material and metaphoric, lead to the divine.
One of the things I enjoy about living in Mexico is the plethora of Shrines. I am not a religious person, but I am a lover of myth, symbols, and ritual. Altars and shrines seduce me, like shoe stores enthrall others, (ok, I am very fond of shoe stores too). I also appreciate Mexicans devotion to their personal female deity La virgin De Guadalupe. I know Catholics would dispute that they worship Mary as deity but I think it is impossible not to see Catholicism as more than just a little bit pagan and pantheistic.
I like to call the altars to Mary– Roadside Marys and as a holiday season celebration I will share some of my favorite Marys with you over the next few weeks.
The relationship of opposites is a theme in my search for meaning. I explore these ponderings frequently in my art work. One of my favored motifs in this vein is the marriage of sacred and profane.
This Mary beautifully represents that idea; she graces our new gas station at the entrance of Tilzapotla. I admire her placement, hovering of the sump pump and mop bucket, and her utilitarian Styrofoam vases.
May we maintain our personal Sacred in the dust of our daily lives.
Happy Thanksgiving Dear Readers, I am thankful for your time.