Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life
Good Evening Friends,
I am writing today to bring attention to some research I have been conducting on animal totems and creatures of the spirit. A consistency has occurred within the studio and my readings and podcasts in as much that I have created a new series with very little effort or intention: spirit animals etched, carved, and pierced into metal, reminding the wearer of his or her animal nature.
Throughout the course of these studies, I was eager to discover my own spirit creature and to better understand my own earthly tendencies, and I think I've come upon it.
"In order to be created, a work of art must first make use of the dark forces of the soul."
- Albert Camus
Today's post is brought to you by the sweet sounds of Bill Laswell's Black Lotus:
A spider totem teaches you balance --
between past and future, physical and spirit, male and female.
She is strength and gentleness combined.
She awakens creative sensibilities
and reminds you that the past is always interwoven with the future.
Spiders are the keepers of the primordial alphabet
and can teach you how to write creatively.
Her body is shaped like the number 8 and she has 8 legs,
which is symbol of infinite possibilities of creation.
Her 8 legs represent the 4 winds of change and the 4 directions of the medicine wheel.
Spider's message is that you are an infinite being who will continue
to weave patterns of life and living throughout time.
Do not fail to see the eternal plan of creation.
Those who weave magic with the written word usually have this totem.
I was fascinated by these creatures in childhood as well; exploring in the depths of night with matches, a flashlight, and brother in tow. We would watch the mother spider weave her web of life and she taught us patience as she awaited the quick capture and sickening decay of her prey. We awed at her precision and beauty, taught to appreciate the darker sides of our selves.
There was one morning I recall myself in the bathroom of my childhood home, peeking into the bathtub before stepping into the tub to make absolutely sure that I was alone, that there were no monsters that day. But there was one. An endearing little creature sat at the bottom of the cool porcelain, waiting for me.
I did not scream. I did not panic and my heart would not race, but I did worry. He mustn't be harmed.
I remember my seven year old self rummaging through the trash, seeking some vessel within I might transport this poor creature away, lest he be trampled by larger beasts of the house. Aha! A perfect spider boat crafted from peeled back plastic atop a rounded shell where disposable razors once lay to rest.
"This will work," I think.
Lifting one leg tentatively over the tub and then the next, I hover over this tiny being with my most trying grace and care. I try not to startle or scare him. I try to imbue this small thing with my love and magic in convincing it of my best intentions and it is scooped. I quiver trying to replace the rolled up plastic, and it won't stay of it's own accord but I hold it gently closed and run to my mother's bedside.
"What is it sweetie?"
"I found a spider."
"It needs to go outside."
My love for these creatures is ever long, it seems.
Tonight, directly preceding this entry, I felt something tickle my arm. A small spider had been crawling it's way up to greet me and a hand came up to meet him too quickly; pulverizing his body unconsciously. Grief and regret begin to seek my extremities as I rolled it's tiny carcass between my thumb and forefinger. How might I make it up, how can I honor this creature...?
I will eat of it's flesh and become it.
Love at long last,