For those who have felt inspired by my Sculpture of the Month (SOM) series, you may be disappointed to hear that you are now reading the last one, and we have arrived at the finale. I started this offering in June of 2020 during the Covid shutdown, when public art shows were only possible virtually. After delivering SOM newsletters mostly monthly for five years, the last SOM you received was several months ago, in June. In the interim, I have pondered my relationship to the project and decided it’s time to conclude, with gratitude for the journey we’ve shared!
The full archive of SOMs will continue to live on my blog, and I encourage you to turn to it for mythic inspiration and reflection. I will also keep you posted by email about sculpture news, naming sessions, and art events. (Check the bottom of this email for what’s coming next!)
I hope you will enjoy this final SOM entry, will continue to follow my work, and will keep delving into your own exploration of the connections between world mythologies and present circumstances, found so readily in my imagery.
Before we begin, I’ll refer you also to the SOM for Last Call, the sculpture I instinctively wanted to pick for this final issue, since the name seems so apropos, but it already appeared in May of 2022 as #24 in the series. Instead, for this grand finale, I have chosen a work from 2014, the year I moved to Santa Cruz.
A Witness to the Moment
2014
This piece seems particularly prescient now, as world and national circumstances are generating so much anger and fear. We wonder: Will the suffering and injustice promulgated by those with power ever cease?
Several prominent figures appear in this sculpture. On the left, we find a contemplative, Buddha-like figure surrounded by what appear to be abstract representations of dead bodies contorted into various positions of final suffering. He sits on the shore, next to a body of water, in the midst of a rainstorm; yet, his mediation appears to call forth clearing skies to the right. I see this figure as the “everyman,” unsure of how to respond to the present darkness except to connect with something deeper through meditation.
Perched on a globe beside him is what anthropologist Marija Gimbutus would have called a “Bird Goddess” or the Ancient Greeks might have called a Siren or Harpy. Such bird-women have often been associated with communications between humans and the gods.
This history stretches around the globe, beginning with the celestial Kinnara of Buddhist and Hindu mythology. Also, the Ancient Egyptians told of the Ba, an aspect of the personality that continued to communicate with the living after one’s death, as well as Isis, a bird-winged goddess with the power to resurrect the dead.
In Slavic folklore, a number of mythical bird-women, such as Gamayun, Sirin, and Alkonost, represent various qualities: as guardians of paradise, harbingers of sorrow, and deep introspection, respectively.
Conversely, in early Greek myth, bird-bodied Sirens lured sailors to their deaths with honeyed voices. Often misinterpreted as a sexual provocation, the Sirens’ song was actually an irresistible invitation to see the future.
In later Greek myth, Sirens went on to become mermaids due to their association with sailors, but Harpies appeared as bird-women throughout. They served as vicious agents of the gods’ torment and vengeance, as in the torture of Phineas after he told humans the future.
Returning to the Sculpture of the Month, it appears the bird woman in the piece could be voicing to the meditating figure a communication from beyond, perhaps bringing a future of light, joy, and peace to the destructive circumstances the everyman meditates under. The third figure, another half-animal with a human face, appears to be honoring this transformation.
I chose this sculpture as my last SOM because I want to bestow a blessing upon us all. I have never felt so overwhelmed by the daily, worsening disregard for human well being by those dedicated to gaining power and dominance through war. I’m finding it difficult not to fall into despair over dictatorial governments that feel justified in attacking their own citizens and directing wars that kill millions, only to satisfy a leader’s own personal, self-centered benefit.
As I mentioned in the penultimate SOM, I remain at a loss for what to do. This sculpture, Witness to the Moment, reminds me to keep faith in the future by staying connected now to a spiritual vision that cuts through the self-aggrandizing actions of powerful individuals and reconnects us with one another in strength and humility. My hope is that the next generation will live into this vision with clear-eyed courage.
Thanks for following this series over the last 5 years. May you always remain a steadfast and peaceful witness to the moment.
