PRAYERS FOR THE DYING
dedicated to my brother

I needed to do these as "prayers". I had casts of hands, and terra cotta pottery shards imprinted with words; it seems to me that words, syllables, sentences are what we create the stories of our lives with. Before the words - the feelings, the belonging, the response, the one who experiences. Perhaps dying is shattering those "vessels" of words and constructs that created the personae we inhabit. Perhaps, leaving the words and vessels behind, at last, we fly.

The Heart Sutra ( 2009)

"Form is empty, emptiness is form. Likewise, sensation, discrimination, conditioning, and awareness are empty. In this way all things are emptiness; they are without defining characteristics; they are not born, they do not cease" THE HEART SUTRA

Holy Mother Take My Hand ( 2009)

Somewhere within the "hoop" of who we are, within the space between the child and the old man, the beginning place and the ending place.........in the center is the heart. I think above all that is where our "soul making" goes on.

Dream Weaver ( 2009)

This image is very important to me. We ourselves are the great work of art in progress, part of the Web of being. These are Spider Woman's hands, the Dream Weaver, weaving a new dream in the silence, the dark, the depths of innermost being. Of life's Spring may we drink deep and awake to dream and die to sleep and dreaming weave another form a shining thread of life reborn ~~Starhawk "The Weaver Song" from the Spiral Dance

The Midwife's Hands
are our hands