Thanks also to folks for stopping by my soundclick.com site and giving a listen. I appreciate it.
The other day on public radio, they did a feature on a national tattoo convention in Salt Lake City, Utah. They interviewed one man, who said words to the effect "Some religious people say we should not get tattoos, because the body is supposed to be a temple. But what religion has a temple without decorations?".
The past week, my own personal body/temple seems to feature a great deal more potluck and a great deal less healthy food than is usual. I am going to begin today to return to the days of green and yellow vegetables.
On the big island of Hawaii, in a country place not far from the coffee trees, a painted church sits.
It's a little chapel, with little drawings "painted" inside. But what I remember the most about this place is the little walkway lined with Crown of Thorns. Crown of Thorns is a euphorbia, those attractive succulents that serve the function in the African desert regions that cacti do in the Americas. The Crown of Thorns has many-thorned splendors for bush arms. Yet, the things that are not flowers but look like flowers (petioles? I am never good with plant terms) bloom a brilliant red. I remember walking down the little paved walkway, bracketed by Crown of Thorns on either side. I think there's a metaphor in there, somewhere, but I'll leave the image hanging.
This is like the curious question of the cat. Imagine that you write something, let's say a poem. In the poem, a cat appears, or, better yet, the cat is already there and you just edit it into shape a bit. You don't know what the cat means.
But the cat is an image. Do you delete the cat--edit it out--because you don't have its place explained? Or do you leave the cat in, and assume that it has an allusive and hidden meaning you grasp but merely do not understand? I am of the latter group.
I see the cat as decoaration on the metaphoric temple--rather high church, I suppose, cat and all.