A strange image, but perhaps not so strange. The darkness and colours evoke night and winter. There is a tree which sparkles with lights, a tree founded in a valley, protected as it stretches up into the darkness. There is a holiness, an unknowable presence that is hidden in the darkness. Unlike the blue gods of Hinduism, this presence is more powerful, a presence that is older than those gods and goddesses. One must travel even further back in time in search of beginnings, the birthing of a universe out of darkness.
Images are powerful things. Images expose what otherwise would remain in the shadows. Images touch us deep within ourselves to elicit a response, any response, especially responses below the level of ego. This image has been crafted. It once was a photo in someone’s collection, yet if you were to see that original photo you wouldn’t recognise this image, not directly. I changed the image, deleting some of its content; working with exposures, hues and saturations without adding any content. The original has become a tree that exudes a sense of life, winter snow glowing in the depths of a winter night. The image feels right, at least for me. I know the surface story, somewhat; but I know better this story that is a universal story.
We all begin in this place, this darkness which will birth us. We are born out of the darkness and slowly, ever so slowly, we become conscious – bits and pieces at a time. Our source is there in that darkness. We are given life like some newborn king or queen, a holy child from a holy place. This holy presence is our mother, our source, our beginnings.
I debated for some time before deciding to use the image above. It is borrowed as well as altered. I decided that I needed a second image, one that perhaps would help make sense of what I saw. I took this photo as the winter solstice was drawing closer to a close. Again, the same colours to evoke that presence of the feminine, the unconscious contents of the human psyche. We understand the image of the moon as mother. We accept the idea of the man in the moon, a necessity for life to emerge from the mother, just as we accept the idea of the sun being the father, that light, that energy that sparks and quickens life which is a union of the masculine and feminine.
That first image above, is of a woman, an unknown woman, every woman, the eternal and archetypal woman who gives birth, the mother of creation. It is not porn.