It’s nearly time to part ways now. The honor of facilitating the making of a human body in my own body is nearly over. This belly will never be this exact belly ever again. My Son will never again receive nourishment from his umbilical cord. I will never feel him slowly stretch and move against the inside of my abdominal wall as if her were dancing a sacred warrior dance. These last days are the end of his fascinating and rhythmic hiccups inside of my own being, like an intimate drum beat only I will ever know and which makes me so very proud. I will never again feel for his head to see if it is still pointing down. I will never share this body in this way, ever again, with this human. Now we prepare to become 2.
Where do we come from? How does that which did not exist before come to BE? How did you get to be you and how did I get to be me? 10 months ago, this Human inside of me, wiggling and moving as I type these words, did not exist physically. And now he is about to join our Planet Tribe.
These past 10 months have been joyous, scary, nauseating, beautiful, emotional, draining, exhilarating and Divinely Perfect in all of it’s imperfections. For the first time in my 32 years on this planet, I humbly and gratefully stepped out of my own way in order to let Spirit and the Ancestors guide what is to Be. In 39 weeks, I have sunk to my lowest low and risen to my all time highest high, and gained 40 pounds of mass and now I just want to be silent. Silent so that I can hear the stars and the approaching full Moon which will announce my Son’s Due Date. Silent so that Baby Boy can hear my Taos Pueblo Drum and the burning of sacred white sage that I spread around us with wild turkey feathers. Silent so that I can hear the rich conversation of the birds outside my window calling in the Magic that humans can so easily miss. Silent so that I can hear Great Mother Spirit guide me to my own innate wisdom. Silent so that I can hear the wave of water which has been inside rush out like a mystical red carpet made from Sea Water and Dolphin Breath. I need silence so that I can hear my Son’s heartbeat and his call as we prepare to touch skin to skin for the very first time in the History of Man Kind. I seek silence now to hear my own tears fall out of my tired eyes onto my wonder-filled red and heaving chest.
I have loved Frida Khalo since I was a little girl having been raised among wild and eccentric artists in Mexico. Like Friducha, I find myself exploring my body and the reality which accompanies it with curiosity and intrigue; sometimes very judgmental but more often with a forgiving eye. I am not shy in my body: whether I am what society would label skinny and fit or lumpy and bumpy at one time or another, I do not worry what you, dear reader, will think of me. I respect you whether you dislike or love me. I lovingly expect nothing from you. My body has been a continuous and evolving canvas and I take great pleasure in creating art with it; even when it scares me. I move this body to Guinea and Congolese rhythms not because I want you to think me a splendid or imperfect dancer. No, I move this body to channel my Spirit Guides and my Ancestors. I do not photograph my nude body for you to compliment my beauty or point out my ugliness or to have you comment on my courage or on what you might think a disgrace to be exposed. Not at all. I photograph myself because I am passionate about the Human form. I am eternally fascinated how skin, hair and pupils reflect light. I love my body as much as I love yours. I love my vulnerability and pain as much as I hold yours tender in the palms of my heart. I honor my authentic exquisiteness as much as I ecstatically bow to yours. I see no problem in contrasting opinions because to me authentic opinions and thoughts and wisdom all boil down to the same exact ancient root: Evidence That We Are Alive Together.
Self Portraits and photographs i took of another beautiful Pregnant Goddess. Thank you thank you thank you.