Cocoons / Tree Bones
Where are we? Who are we? A life trapped into a form of a body? Do I share a tendency or rather let me call it an urge, to visualize? Investigating our presence, spiritual being, our being destined for a body required material confirmation. Where are we from? Where are we going? Do our senses condemn our perception for a must of a physical, a visual? Do we HAVE to touch to believe?
I read a story, old legend about an old witch who collects the wolf’s bones. When she picks up the last missing bone, she throws them on the wind, on the sand, and a woman raises up from those bones… I was picking up sticks or tree bones as you wish, to confront my desire to pull-on a presence (of a person). Following an intuitive process revealed cocoon-like structures. Was it all about my need to bring up this presence?