Keep wanting to add to this journal, but too busy with pests.
Finally got back to a book I started years ago, Bachofen’s Mutterrecht. Seems pretty archaic now, but still has currency with the frequent articles on discoveries of ‘Venus’ or Mother Goddess figurines. I hope to get to Cynthia Eller’s book next.
Yesterday Laura and her team reported that some of the staff were concerned that the smells noticed in the vicinity of the cavernous areas where we set rat poison several years ago were an indication that these pests have returned. This has made the situation with Ted Wilson whereby we are prevented from inspecting these areas untenable. I spoke with John who tried to reach Ted and found him on the ferry headed home. It appears that Ted has become increasingly erratic and spends much of his time in the ‘cave’, even sleeping there. The staff consensus was to forcibly remove the lock and enter in order to conduct the inspection, but nothing had prepared us for the experience that ensued.
Even as I write about this tonight I find myself immersed in the mysteries of this cave, reliving the experience as if I were still there. The sweet smell of beeswax mixes with the odour of fertile, humid soil. My eyes resist the dimness of the cave and I rub my face. I look around in this uneasy environment and see a workspace, crammed with tools and a section of soil in the back. It looks like an excavation. The walkway I am on leads me past buckets, tubs and tools, piles of slabs of beeswax and a makeshift desk full of uncleaned, earthy artefacts. I find myself standing in front of a honeycombed section of soil, at eye-level with cavities and tunnels that branch deep into this earthen wall. The hollows compose a larger form, something like a mould of a human female figure. Am I the only one who is seeing this? What is going on here?
St. Dymphna, virgin and Martyr, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, daughter of royal parents, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, child of great beauty of soul and body, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, docile to the lessons of thy pious mother, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, obedient to thy saintly confessor, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, who abandoned the court of thy father to escape the danger of impurity, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, who chose a life of poverty on earth so that thou might lay up treasures in Heaven, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, who sought consolation at Holy Mass, Communion and prayer, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, ardent lover of the Divine Bridegroom, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, devoted to the Mother of God, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, beheaded by thine own father, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, Martyr of holy purity, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, brilliant example of Christian youth, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, renowned for many miracles, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, glory of Ireland and Belgium, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, full of compassion for those in need, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, protectress against all nervous and mental disorders, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, consoler of the afflicted, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, friend of the helpless, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, comforter of the despondent, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, light of those in mental darkness, pray for us.
St. Dymphna, patroness of those who suffer with nervous and mental diseases, pray for us.
Quam pulchra es, et quam decora, carissima, in deliciis!
Statura tua assimilata est palmæ, et ubera tua botris.
Dixi: Ascendam in palmam, et apprehendam fructus ejus;
et erunt ubera tua sicut botri vineæ, et odor oris tui sicut malorum.
Veni, dilecte mi, egrediamur in agrum, commoremur in villis.
Mane surgamus ad vineas:
videamus si floruit vinea, si flores fructus parturiunt, si floruerunt mala punica;
ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.
I must find Nelly. I need to find Nelly. I have put her photo on Facebook and asked friends to look for her, but to no avail. I realize that having little more than her photo and first name makes it almost impossible to locate her, but it is so important to find out what happened after all these years.
If anyone reading this knows of her whereabouts, please let me know.
I had a brilliant idea – I should be able to find Nelly using Google image search. I uploaded her picture and got back these results. It’s obviously not perfect. I highly doubt that this is her.
I must look at each of these people to see if I can find her.
I can’t find more than a picture.
This woman looks a lot like Nelly, but the location seems improbable. Follow the link and see what you think.
The hair looks right, but she is too young and I can’t believe Nelly would pose like this. This is all not so easy.
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I’m sure this is Nelly. I think ‘Nelly’ must have been a nickname that Ted used for her and not her real name. That would explain why I can’t find any pictures under that name. She must have moved from Australia to Spain. I knew Zaragoza would figure into this somehow. Do I dare contact her?
I just got word that I will not be able to continue to use building 2 for my investigations into Ted’s work after the Biennale closes. Maybe Iris promised more than she could deliver or maybe she was deceived as well, but I must now scramble to find another location for all the artefacts and my work. I’m thinking of transporting them down to the highlands. Why are people so interested in these items if they are art but not otherwise? Is the Black Madonna a work of art or an object of personal devotion? This is the Word made Wax.