Magic mirror in the sand, Tell me who I am again #2

The landing is not too rough. I fall on sand again, and I have a balance problem like Alice when she fell on the ceiling under an upside down candelabra. It also has to be similar to what Peter Pan must have experienced when he left without his shadow, or what the shadow must have felt when he left without it.

-You’re YOU though, says a voice in my head. And remember: Rumi said that “doing as others told me, I was blind. Coming when others called me, I was lost. Then I left everyone, myself as well. Then I found everyone, myself as well.”

-Yes, I whisper. And Jung also said “My soul leads me into the desert of my own self”, so let’s have a look at this me-desert…

As I look around, I wonder if I have landed on the movie set of the Planet of the Apes, only that the ocean is a sea of gypsum. I start walking, and sure enough, there it is, a reenactment of the memorable scene with that NRA freak (sorry, I need to be frank here) who so overacted his part at the beach…

It is a little bit different though. A snake’s shedding draws a yes at the buried feet of Lady Liberty, and from its base seem to leave footsteps, although there is actually someone walking towards me in those very same footsteps. It is weird. Behind this silhouette, a bronze wall from which a man has gradually escaped. When the silhouette comes closer to me, I recognize Nico. I somehow knew he was the one who had fallen with me…

-So how do you like this new version of El Planeta de los Simios? he asks.

-I like the similarity of concepts between Lady Liberty and the man who escaped that wall in the background… Heehee, for some reason I am reminded of a drawing I had seen of a man hooked to his computer who looked like Lady Liberty when he actually was a prisoner of his device, and my mind has drawn a new parallel with the statue of a Black virgin in a church of my Belgian hometown.

-Ah yes, it is funny… You know that Black virgins are Christian versions of Isis, do you? asks Nico.

-Well no, I did not know that. You seem to know a lot about her… I have purple Isis wings though, from when I learned a bit of belly dance, I took them here with me.

-Oh, you’ll show them to me once! Let’s keep on walking. I know Santa and Peridot are watching us from above, to see what we encounter and what we make of it…

We start walking north in the hope of finding signs to analyze throughout this quest that is clearly a kind of road map to the rediscovery of who we can really be. There is a strange green hue over the horizon, and I keep hearing Peridot’s faint laughter in the back of my head.

-What did you feel when we were falling? asks Nico as we walk.

-Well, I start thinking, it was a strange reminder of when I was a little girl; I had mentioned that already, I think. I was convinced that someone had pushed me and I rolled and rolled and rolled inside a dark barrel. And what did you feel?

-It felt like the whirlwind of a spiritual presence after a prayer.

-Wow, you have such a way with words…

-Yes, I like to hone my verbal skills and I always work on beautifying my written word too.

-That is a great sentence too! And a great concept, I might borrow it from you!

-Anytime…

-Ouch, I shout as I trip over a sharp object.

As Nico leans over to see what it is and remove the sand and grabs it, we discover a huge obsidian arrow head.

-Look, I exclaim, it’s a mirror too!

As we both look into it, our reflection is there. We feel it’s us, but our features have changed. From up above, still sitting in the particular living room I had created in my mind, Santa and Peridot observe us as we exchange our impressions.

-You’re Alice! says Nico.

-And you’re the mad hatter! In the new Disney movie release, Alice travels through time once she enters the mirror. I remember.

-Well what do you think we have been doing so far? Asks Nico

-True… I loved how she was made to enter the clock to start a dangerous journey in search of the Chronosphere to cure the mad hatter. Oh look, there’s a character from another movie who made her way to the clock. It’s Joy, from Inside Out. What does she hold in her hands?

-Don’t you remember? asks Nico. It’s a memory, probably one of the core memories, actually, what we seem to be working on in this particular journey. Back to the new Alice, the time travel was pretty obvious to me, but what I liked to see was similar to what I had seen once in the new version of Maleficent. I liked the fact that the characters were not black or white, good or bad, but closer to what we are in real life. The Red Queen had been hurt, so she hurt back, and the oh-so-nice White Queen had proven to be, at times, a stubborn coward, who had let assumptions win and her mom wrongly accuse her sister of something SHE had done in the first place.

-I love this boy, I just love this boy, says a delighted Peridot from above the clouds.

-Yeah, I say. And the only thing that she had wanted all these years was a direct apology from her sister’s lips… As simple as that. Alice has also disappointed the mad hatter though, because for the first time she used a word that was a big no-no in their vocabulary. It’s as if she broke a silent pact. It felt like a betrayal to the mad hatter. And so his eyes grew dark in a second and he kicked her out of his hat house…

When I saw that scene in the movie theater, oh my God, it really struck a chord. I felt how frozen Alice felt as she replayed in her mind the faces of the Mad Hatter, from angry to indifferent or oblivious of who she was. So many contradictory thoughts rushing through her head… Like in that movie, the Matrix, she had to decide which pill to take, red or blue, red or blue, red or blue… What would have happened if Noe had taken the other pill in the movie?

-Well he was supposed to stay in a state of slumber of ignorance if he had taken the other pill. But you know what, I have this feeling that, no matter what pill you take, if you really want to know, you’ll know.

-Like in this beautiful fairytale, The Prince’s Quest, I say. Azur and Asmar compete to rescue the Djinn Fairy. But they are brothers and they love each other. So when one of them is hurt, the other one carries him on his back to make it together through the final hurdle and to the object of their quest. They must choose which of the “duplicate doors” they will open. One is supposed to take them to the Hall of Light where the fairy awaits, the other is supposed to take them to the Cavern of Shadows.

-Oh and what happens?

-Well, they choose a door and stay in darkness for a while, so they think everything is lost.

-Oh, a sad ending, I prefer happy endings… sighs Nico.

-Wait, I’m not done, I say. It’s never too late… After a few seconds, when the blond brother says “all is lost”, a female voice is heard while everything starts to be illuminated: “you have won”, says the voice. Actually the two doors led to the same place, and the fairy just chose not to open her palace and her heart to other suitors because she was not interested in them. But the good heart of those two made her decide to let them win.

-Heehee… the laughter of Peridot is heard again in the background.

-Wow, so that tends to prove that everything is a construct of our mind, and that we have the power to change the story that once was told, don’t you think Alice, I mean Ashen Lyric? asks Nico.

I am startled as he uses the second name he had made up for me. –Why do you call me that now? I ask.

-I don’t know, he goes on. Maybe because ashes are gray, and that it’s the perfect color when our mind is caught in the middle of so-called opposites, like when you’re in between white and black keys on a piano, and you wish to sing your heart song from the color that makes both opposites meet. Sometimes it’s a song played on the radio that says what we really mean but cannot express with the right words, for some weird or obscure reason…

-I couldn’t have said it better, whispers Peridot who loves to eavesdrop on this conversation.

-Speaking of obscure or dark, I say, I loved seeing in that movie that the brothers were actually very different physically. Also, they argued all the time, but strangely enough, often their argument was actually aimed at making the other feel better, in a strange way. They were nursed by Jenane, the Berber mother of Asmar. She had worked as a servant for a French widower before being kicked by that man and going back to Africa, where Azur wanted to see her and his brother again. Azur had blue eyes, like his name hinted, and a very white skin, and he wore a white outfit. His milk brother Asmar -it means “the one who has a beautiful bronze skin”- wore a red and white outfit…

-I looooove it, laughs Peridot.

-That’s cool, smiles Nico. Especially the weird fight part… You know, sometimes the person who hurts you is hurting too in the process, and does not really know why they do the things that they do, but it’s like a mandatory thing for them to perform, like a cleansing or a fire baptism. And even though they know they are being jackasses, they’re like possessed by an invisible puppeteer who pulls contradictory strings, well like those pills, red and blue… It’s as if the person was acting out of two contradictory feelings, like the twins Tweedledum and Tweedledee who always argue but can’t live without one another in the Mad Hatter’s world...

-It reminds me of an ad I had seen, I say. It was brilliant: it showed a man who was being obnoxious to everybody, messing with women’s skirts and hair and men’s umbrellas, who threw pots out of their balconies and battered shutters for no reason, until we understand that it is Mr. Wind, who is extremely happy when someone invites him to work for them at a windmill company.

-“E.T. phone home”, mutters Peridot from his cloud… You know, this “jack-ass” concept, maybe it’s a mix between the ass-donkey-burro that Santa made me ride and the jackalope?

Nico smiles at Peridot’s associations and adds another example to what we are starting to understand.

-I had seen another ad of a guy who was being hated by everybody because he was rough to them in the street, but actually he was seeing, in his mind, seconds before they’d happen, possible accidents; so he did what he did to avoid people from being badly hurt.

-Oh wow, so instead of going back in time like Alice with the Chronosphere, he actually could see a possible future and changed it! I exclaim.

-Yes!!! I so, but oh so love those two, says Peridot who is really talkative from up above. He is also busy riling Santa with two wool balls, one blue, one red, which he unravels to wrap again around the holy man’s crozier in a nice but funny braided cord…

-Will you stop at once, Peridot? Shouts Santa.

In that precise moment, Nico and I hear a loud thunder all over the sky up above and down below, and lightning strikes our obsidian arrowhead that falls on the sand again. It now shows the Mad Hatter and Santa in mirroring attitudes.

-Wow, Santa. What was wrong with you, then? asks Peridot peeking from his cloud as he tries hard not to laugh.

-A little girl had showed disbelief in me. It made me sick, acknowledges Santa. And now that I think of it, it’s true that there is some similarity between what happened to me then and what happened to the mad hatter recently in that new movie. The only difference, maybe, is that what infuriated and sickened him was more Alice’s disbelief in herself, because he counts so much on her magic and strength. Without her strength it is as if he were losing his own. Maybe he was being more compassionate than me in his anger towards Alice, he was being really selfless and let himself get sick because of her lack of faith in her own power.

Through the magical conduct that connects Overland and Underland, Nico ‘over’hears Santa’s words and tells me that he can’t agree more. I, myself, don’t know what to say and remain silent.

-Ah, Santa, says Peridot. Aren’t you always telling all the little kids of the world that they have to believe in their dreams and that they can be whatever they want to be? Their strength comes from within themselves…

-Yes, agrees the old man, but also because I tell them so. You see, words can be like arrows: taking you to the highest peak of a mountain of dreams in one precise shot of an arrow that you hang on to, or peppering and riddling you with a rain of darts piercing your heart’s flesh and ego’s skin. These wounds take time to heal…

-Must be why “riddles” were invented… giggles Peridot. To help humans sort between the kind of arrows they deal with and why they were thrown at them in the first place… I guess it’s also the reason why our human kids have found a big arrowhead mirror down there.

-But I’m not really human, says Santa. Remember how old I am!

-Well, precisely since you and I have known each other for such a long time, Santa Man, I can remind you of a few episodes when real human contradictions tore your mind. Remember when you had two puppets in your hands? One was a little mouse, the other was a little devil. Of course the devil had to be red with black Afro hair, black like myself by that time when I was Zwarte Piet. Do you remember our Flemish word battles: “arm / rijk, arm / rijk; arm / rijk” (poor / rich, poor / rich, poor / rich) there in Belgium?

-Ja, ik herinner mij, mumbles Santa. You love to verbally “arm” wrestle like the “jirk” you sometimes are… Ah haha, “jirk” is the anagram of “rijk”, ¡qué bueno! Or shoud I say ¡qué rico! I’m so good at puns!

-Sorry Santa, put on your glasses to double check in your Bogglary next time, cause ‘jerk’ is spelled with an E, as in Eyes, heehee… Anyway, back to that little story, you had let your self be fascinated by the monetary belongings of Bart, our Flemish friend, who had brought all his savings in a piggy bank to help us with our presents to children. You had let your greed lead your choice, playing victim and crying “poor old me” when we actually had our own fabrication device of Santa money.

-But you know so well that this money is fake, Zwarte Peridot! shouts Santa who frankly hates it when Peridot shows him his mistakes.

-Ha! See!?! You’ve done it yourself, you’ve killed your own magic for a second… You’ve killed the dream for a second. Instead of fake, at least say “make-believe”, it sounds nicer! See, I, Zwarte Piet  or Peridot always take the blame in this dark pit I carry, but our share of “guilt” is not so different from what happens in Alice through the Looking Glass: the relationship between the oh-so perfect-NOT White Queen and her sister the Red Queen. But that’s ok with me, we all do silly things sometimes, humans and not so humans too. But now that you’re either mad or dumbfounded, I’ll take advantage of this temporary silence of yours to address the myth that has it that you’re white and I’m black… Well I’m glad that now some researchers have come up with what you really looked like when we were younger… And between me and you, they are super accurate in their representation- So I decorated the living-room of the castle, over the mantel of the fireplace, with those new old faces: one face-on and one in profile. It makes you look either like the latest mugshot in town or a nice moose head wall mound… Mirror, mirror on the wall, heeeeheeheehee!

Peridot squats just on time to avoid the red shoe that Santa throws at him. It ends up landing in Underland, on our obsidian arrowhead mirror. I take it aside to keep on looking at the details of what Peridot described, and I sing in my head the childhood song that asked for Saint Nick / Santa to come and put candy in the shoes kids would leave there for him to fill.

Ô grand Saint Nicolas,

Patron des écoliers,

Apporte-moi des pommes

Dans mes petits souliers.

Je serai toujours sage

Comme un petit mouton.

Je dirai ma prière

Pour avoir des bonbons.

Venez, venez, Saint Nicolas,

Venez, venez, Saint Nicolas,

Venez, venez, Saint Nicolas, et tra la la...

At that precise moment, something else is falling from the sky, from Overland over my head: a basket that holds an image and a textbook with “life lessons” written on it.

-Ouch! I shout rubbing my head.

I want to grab the basket but a snake hidden inside hisses and scares me away.

-You ffffee, young lady, I’m really particular about ffffffongs.

-You mean fangs, as in snake’s tooth? I respectfully ask.

-No, I know my tooth from my lies, ffffank you. I said I am particular about fffffongs, and you destroyed the lyricffff of that fffffong.

-Well, because right now she’s Ashen Lyric, giggles Nico. She burns down everything, heehee.

A little black fuming cloud full of lightning ready to fire actually hovers over my head as I grumble at Nico…

-I know that ffffong by heart, goes on Snake, from the time Ffffanta took me from Effffmeralda’s arms when she danfffed and winked at Quafffimodo.

-Oh it is interesting, says Nico, because Esmeralda, the emerald, was the material of the famous Tablet, that piece of the Hermetic tradition that contained the secret of transmutation. It held the secrets of how to make a solid object or body be inundated with light. It goes back to Hermes, Mercure and Toth. Powerful medicine… You know, I see the alchemist as the sky plowman.

-I like that metaphor, Nico, but I really don’t remember that snake scene in the Disney movie, I say in contempt, and for the moment only applying the meaning of hermetic to my mind which I deliberately make narrower.

-Well you don’t because the ridiculoufffff ffffenfffffors made the cartooniffft change me for fffffcarves, that’s why. Anyway, in that Ffffaint Nick fffong it’ffff not ‘fffouliers’ aka shoes but ‘panier’ aka bafffket, henfffe my mode of tranffffportation today; it’ffff not ‘mouton’ aka ‘sheep’ but ‘image’ aka, well, you’re the translator here, there’s no need to translate that one anyway. And finally, it’ffff not ‘je dirai ma prière’ aka “I will fffay my prayer’ but ‘I will ffftudy my lefffonfff’- Aho.

-Ahaaa… I say. Well I guess those NEW lyrics of yours were the result of the eradication of faith in the anticlerical post-revolutionary France. But I say faith is good too, so we’ll use both versions if it’s ok with you… And don’t even think of mentioning again the oh so wrong attitude of Christians who made you the bad guy of the Garden of Eden. I know you’re great, I know we need you and your embrace to set things right in our life. So thank you from the bottom of my heart, I’ll take the shoe, the basket, the sheep (drawn for a Little Prince that I like), the image (what would I do without images), the prayer and the lesson, and we’ll proceed with our analysis, if you don’t mind, Señor Serpiente…

-I don’t.

-Grafffias. Oops, heehee, you’re a bad influenfffe on me.

Nico giggles a little before apologizing to the serpent on my behalf, in beautiful terms, again:

-Dr. Edward Bynum once said that “within each of us lies the potential to activate a personal connection to the superconscious. At the root of creativity and spiritual genius, our innate serpent power of spiritual transcendence reveals portals that enfold time, space, and the luminous matrix of reality itself”. Thank you for enlightening us.

-Ffffee? Ffffee, young lady, how one needs to be talked to? Learn from that fffage young man.

-I will. I am, Serpent. Thank you for enlightening us.

Then, as if turned into lightning himself, Señor Serpiente strikes the obsidian mirror and nearly breaks his fang on there.

-What possessed you though? I asked.

-Oh it’fff that moufffe that I fffaw in the mirror. I have earthly needs too, you know. I thought the moufffe wafff for real… OK, I’m off to try to hunt a real something. Adiofff.

-Adiós Señor Serpiente!

Nico and I wave him good bye and sit down again by the mirror to observe the mouse he was talking about.

-I know that mouse, I say. It has the perfect attitude to show how one feels when they think  that enough is enough.

-I am thinking of cartoons, answers Nico. Have you seen The Rescuers?

-It doesn’t ring a bell, no…

Look, my memory has been projected in the obsidian mirror, shows he:

-Oh! Of course! Les Aventures de Bernard et Bianca! I exclaim.

-Yes, that’s how the mice were called. Do you see the purpose of the organ pipes that look like huge, hollow mountains for the little mice? The gator (or is it a crocodile?) plays the organ to make them fly upwards in hopes of eating them… But they’re stronger than that. It is a bit what I felt when we were falling, I had the feeling to go upwards instead of falling down.

-Wow, that’s deep, I say. Man, it’s the first time that I notice the detail of the NRA sign in Madame Medusa’s shop. Haha, surreal detail! What does it remind me of, about a woman who felt real but was not… Bah, maybe I’ll remember later. Oh this made me feel a bit emotional though…

As I say that, a tear rolls down my cheek and falls on the obsidian mirror, where it forms a ripple that creates another image taken from the same movie.

-“What makes you think that someone would want to adopt a little girl like you?” quotes Nico.

-Oh you remember that too, Nico. I sigh. What a wicked thing to say to that poor girl.

-Yeah, I do. You know, I think it was a great example of how someone can manipulate our thoughts and make us believe untruths. I think the face of Medusa was a metaphor for doublespeak: one half is made up, the other is natural. Typical of what she did when she tried to say horrible things to make Penny feel worthless but in a tone of voice that sounded like sweet talk. You have to be strong in life, and believe in yourself, not in what others say.

-Yes, it’s true. I guess now the little girl feels way more than worth a “penny”, heehee… Thank God the little mice were there to cheer her up and save her though.

-Yes, but I think it’s good to see human mice who save or at least defend themselves too, argues Nico.

-Funny that you should say that. Mouse, “souris”, is the endearment term my parents used with me. What would that make of Bernard & Bianca’s association in French? It was called SOS in the movie, so it could be “Société de l’Obstinée Souris”, haha, it fits me pretty well… I am stubborn.

-Like Tom with Jerry, the most famous cat and mouse of cartoon world, says Nico.

-Ah those two… I say. They love each other deeply, actually…  I like the characterization of all those settings, perfect theater for trenches, a western set and a Greek tragedy. Tom and Jerry in all their adventures could be the personification of those old theater masks: one that laughs and one that cries.

-I see an athanor in the shape of Jerry’s house, well, in all mice holes actually… says Nico.

-A what?

-It’s a term of alchemy. It is also called the philosophical furnace, where matter is transformed and purified of its debris to be reborn in light and liberty. There is a little hole at the bottom of the oven that really looks like a mouse hole. It is also considered a gate between realms, a way to leave earthly weight and reach the quintessence. It is a door between worlds that enables us to perceive non-ordinary realms.

-Oh wow… That’s what I like in you, you seem to never have lost your capacity of wonderment, I say.

-True. Wonderment, a-ma(i)ze-ment, that’s the secret… he says.

I am in awe for a moment, and then go on thinking out loud.

-Back to our first mice, do you remember that there are many scenes in the movie where the different animals go through dark places before freeing themselves from fears or dangers, real or perceived?

-I did not notice, says Nico.

-Well, yes. First the air in the organ pipe that seems to rid Bernard of his irrational fears, like his obsession with the (beautiful) number 13.

Three claps of thunder are heard again in our sky.

-Sorry, girl, shouts Peridot from above with a lightning in his hand. I just got emotional as I remembered how many times Bernard wanted to back off because of number 13. Don’t mind me, go on, please, I love it!

-Haha, in the end one has to laugh with what Peridot says and does, I acknowledge. He’s right, actually. First Bernard does not want to climb the comb-ladder to reach the message in the bottle because it has 13 steps… That made me smile…

-Maybe Bernard was a bit intimidated and only planned to look for Bianca in every comb of his hair… murmurs Nico.

-…?

-Oh forget about it. Well yes, I remember that comb, Nico says. What are the other instances?

-Well they’re supposed to fly on Friday the 13^th, and there are thirteen steps on the “plane” ramp that take them to the sardine can tied on the albatross’s back. But then thanks to Bianca’s tenacity they embark for the best journey of all.

-Who will rescue me? / I'm lost at sea without a friend / This journey, will it ever end? sings Nico.

-Nico, you have an incredible memory… I also remember that song in the movie, I think that’s why I shed a tear earlier. And there was this other one too: 
“Be brave little one / make a wish for each sad little tear / hold your head up though no one is near / someone is waiting for you / don’t cry little one / there’ll be a smile where a frown used to be / you’ll be part of the love that you see / someone’s waiting for you / always keep a little prayer in your heart kid / and you’re sure to see the light / soon there’ll be joy and happiness / and you little one will be bright / have faith little one till your hopes and your wishes come true / you must try to be brave little one / someone’s waiting to love you”… 
Oh but you’re crying too…

-No! says Nico. Something got in my eye…

-Oh, I see…

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… A sizzling and then sloshing sound is heard at our feet: the obsidian mirror has turned liquid, drawing a huge tear that takes red mercury hues.

-SOS!! Our mirror’s leaving, I shout!

-Well, mercury was also used as liquid mirror, I think we’re fine, says Nico. Look!

A little tree leaf operated by a winged being is navigating on the mercury surface.

-Oh wow, “Save Our Ship” indeed, I say. This is incredible! Now Evinrude the dragonfly has left the cartoon to become real in the here and now! He was actually the boat pilot for Bernard and Bianca!

-Yes I was, says the tiny creature. And, lady, this furnace menace felt like the chimney where I turned black as I escaped the vampire cloud…

-Vampire Cloud? Asks Nico.

-Yes, cloud is the term for a group of bats. I say. Oh I’m sorry for this painful reminder, but I thought it was a very symbolic image, just like the adventure of Orville sucked in Medusa’s swamp mobile and who turned black once he got expelled from the loud machine.

-Orville, el sol es tu candil… whispers Nico before asking me: don’t you hear it?

-What?

-The name of the bird that turned black and got out of the swamp mobile… Or and ville, city of gold in your language, ain’t it?

-Oh my, it is true! So this is the alchemy you were talking about, Nico?

-I think so… We have to die a little, contemplate our darkness and be consumed and get rid of what no longer serves us to be reborn again and set free… he answers.

-Is forgiveness part of that alchemy, like when we say ‘borrón y cuenta nueva’ in Spanish? I ask.

-Maybe, Nico answers.

The mercury tear now has settled its “waters” and another image appears on its surface. 

-Haha! I laugh. “Ratón” aka mouse rhymes with “borrón”. When you say ‘borrón y cuenta nueva’ in Spanish, it means “let’s start with a clean slate”…

-cleaning the registers of Akasha…

-Un gros chat?

-Haha, Ashen Lyric, you’re so unique… says Nico. Yeah, a big cat if you want…

-I think forgiveness guarantees a “Speedy” recovery, I tease… What does this Mickey and Minnie drawing reminds me of though?

-“American Gothic” shouts Peridot from the clouds. I love that artwork, I have a collection of parodies similar to that one, wait a sec, check this out!

He throws a paper plane in our direction. As we unfold it, we see a series of adaptations of the painting.

-Oh, wow, I love them! I say. They are so symbolic! Let’s play our words game, Nico! What title would you give to each of them?

-Well, let’s see… For the first three: “It’s later than you think, Get your pieces together, Love is blind and things get blurred”.

-Hmmm, I like them. Let me name the other three… “Black Robed Greedy Kabouter and Poca Vergüenza, Holy Jerónim@, Peace Call”.

-Why not, guys, why not… shouts Peridot. I like your creativity. I particularly appreciate the Kabouter one, it reminds me of war dances I am sometimes obliged to perform… Hey! By the way, turn the crushed plane upside down, there’s some more!

-Oh my God! This one on the left is in my calendar, I say. Tonto and the Lone Ranger by David Bradley… This place seems way more inviting than Medusa’s pawn shop. The weathervane is the famous “End of the Trail”. And I love the name “Silver Bullet”. It evokes a western song… Do you think that when one shares space, thoughts and dream with another person, they end up feeling like they are one and the same?

-Maybe, says Nico. Not sure about the link with a silver bullet though, but I love the way your mind works anyway, even though I don’t always get it. Back to your question, I think there may be some resistance, though. Especially with cow boys or girls and Indians who don’t like to be surrounded or caught. Neither of them likes to be roped, and sometimes, like a wild horse, they want to run in the other direction.

-Yeah, well sometimes a good rope helps to make the horse just stop fidgeting and it enables the future rider to tell the horse what needs to be told. Although I don’t even have a rope in the first place… All I have is this red thread, I say as I look into my pocket, I don’t even know where it comes from actually…

-So what needs to be told?

-That the next image looks like a happy ending to me, under the effigy of the end of the trail: Tonto and Lone Ranger have opened a B&B and their first clients are Miss O’Keeffe, whose initials on her apron spell ‘d’accord,’ and who managed to take her Stieglitz to New Mexico with her, I say without breathing.

-So why do you say it as if you wanted to let someone KO instead of OK with what you say? asks Nico making a good point.

-I guess because I want that happy ending for O’Keeffe and others like her but I also need to re-write part of their story for it to happen, or at least address their hurt.

Frida did it with her painting, I do it with my writing… I like that painting by Michael Andryc where the ravens’ eyes looking at us from the marks in aspen trees. The trees look like some of Magritte’s optical illusions. I thought of his painting of the rider and her horse that partially disappear behind the trees when I saw a children’s book with a moose head like that of Santa’s mugshot. It had gone back to its natural habitat after living on a wall. Mirror, mirror on the wall…

-Oh yes, I see the moose, says Nico. You know, moose is a sign to honor the gifts that one can give, and recognize one’s worthiness. Moose is half-way between the gentleness of Deer and the fight or flight Buffalo stampede. Moose is about balance between delegating and doing, but basically it is about one’s personal accomplishment.

-You know, I dare to say, this whole idea of birches and other wood trees cutting our normal perception of reality is also related to a feeling I had a long time ago. It was a dark thought, I wanted to cut the image of someone into pieces. Now when I look at the birch lamp decorated with five-pointed stars and the postcard with fox cubs… I feel that instead of cutting anything in pieces, I cut out my own soul that I tried to observe from a different shrine. Those objects symbolize what I had to take care of, back in the day. In the new painting Frida seems to heal the ravens as a way to mend her own heart. It’s a little bit like what I have seen from that Mexican artist Yuyi Morales. She decided to portray Frida taking care of the wounded deer that once appeared in one of her self-portraits.

-And how was the deer healed? asks Nico with eyes that latch on to the deer.

-With patience and care, I answered, but also opening Pandora’s box after assembling a key that opened a sealed trunk, I say. And even before that, the artist assembled both the deer and Frida with utmost care, de la nada, from out of nowhere, piecing them together like that story you told us about Isis who rebuilt her man and had a baby Horus from him.

-And what was there in the Pandora’s box? asks Nico.

-Vampire bats and lonely swallows. One of the swallows stayed on Frida’s forehead and became her famous eyebrows, and everybody said that these were the eyebrows of jealousy. But it had not been easy to go through what Diego sometimes had done…

OUCH! I shout, who’s bombarding me?

-Why it’s me before you spill them beans, says Peridot who pours a hail of coffee beans on us as he comes down from his cloud hanging from one of his blue threads.

.-What beans? I ask and rub my head… again.

-Leonardo’s beans! Or Diego’s beans, well, men’s beans, hahaha! 

(To be continued: here)