In ancient civilizations historians tell us the goddess was powerful, revered. The snakes held high in her outstretched arms were venerated for they connection to the earth-the ground of being-and for their ability to transform as they shed their skin for a new one . This image was from a time when women were honored.
The Guest house This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all
May Sartan’s Poem: The myth as medusa: I saw you once, Medusa; we were alone. I looked you straight in the cold eye, cold. I was not punished, was not turned to stone– How to believe the legends I am