There is a dark room in my house that's filled with treasures and junk. It has become a store room for things that once occupied my attentions. It's filled with things which are waiting for me to do something mysterious with them. At least that's what it feels like when I acknowledge the things that I am.
Love In, Los Angeles, 1968
Some items in my dark room are iconic; I need only glance at them to relive the essence of past experiences. These I call my Soul Treasures.
Without thinking, I am inclined to understand that all my things are personal and life-sustaining. That's our culture. We love things. Most of the time it's most difficult to detach from things. That's life.
Finding this last image recently was a real (suh!) slap-in-the-head for me. I had lost it amongst my junk. I had forgotten that this was one of the first images made during a life long photo theme I called Searching for Anima.
Today I am attempting to gather more eggs from amongst the things that I am. MY problem is one faced by every hoarding personality: these rare eggs are countless and ubiquitous and ... Who's in charge of this filing system, anyway?
I can't find them all because I don't want to throw any eggs away. Let other things find their way into my personal mulch pit, I say.
"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." Wayne Dyer
These eggs had been gathering themselves throughout the years ... so that we could play with them, question them, and lose them again.
In continuing the search for eggs around the ovum that is my home, my eyes and my heart fall upon objects that have mapped a journey toward anima. Amongst the many image objects I find, some lie in storage drawers as prints, others rest in frames on the walls; still others fill my hardrives, while some travel as protons flying about in cyberspace.
I understand that Dante descended into the depths of hell. Having no life in this direction, anima must move from the head to the human heart to be fully acknowledged. It can be, like Dante's journey, a terrible distance to travel.
Amatao (I Love)
Love, too, can be a struggle. But is love a necessary path to discovering anima or animus? When did you first fall in love? With whom and how did it go? Enraptured like Narcissus, many of us have found the road to completion strewn with boulders and carrion.
Who does not identify with cave art? Its primitive beauty is as ageless as the Sirens of Desire.
Now, I cannot confidently say that I have come into my stage of Jungian completion, but sometimes it feels like progress has been made. During times like this, it feels like anima is rising and all is well in the world.