I love mythology. When I was in school it seemed hard to believe that reading stories of heroes, and gods and goddesses was a subject to study. I have always been intrigued by the origins of things. The Easter bunny and eggs seemed a bit strange but great fun to decorate and to see them hopping about holding baskets of eggs on cards and candy wrappers was a welcome sight after a long winter. Lately I heard that the Easter Bunny legend comes from the goddess Oeaster, the ancient goddess of Spring. She had great sadness while looking at a barren field where there was only one lone wren surviving the freezing winter. So in her mercy she changed the wren to a rabbit . Rabbits were plentiful in the field.The wren was carrying eggs inside her little body so then also did the rabbit. So there you have it the Easter Bunny.
My garden taught me why the colours of Easter are lilac and yellow. Crocus, daffodils, may flowers,(marsh marigold) heather, lilacs, wisteria, lungwort, dandelions– you can think of more I am sure.
My studio window with fired clay dancers overlooking the river
These dancers are portraits of real people. In the eighties I went to New York and was asked by a friend who is a professional dancer to come to her classes to observe. She had been a principal dancer for the Martha Graham Dance Company and was teaching at the famous Alvin Ailey’s and Julliard Dance at Lincoln center. She later founded the Jeanne Ruddy Dance Company. So I came sketchbook in hand and sat crosslegged on the floor and tried to catch the movement of the young dancers. I was used to static life drawing classes where the model holds a pose. These dancers were reaching , dipping, leaping , turning . The Graham technique employs much floor work so they were also rolling, balling up, and releasing. Arms and legs and hair went flying, swirling , whipping around. Into this I pushed my pencil and tried to stabilize one movement. I admire the Martha Graham body of work and the technique. The use of myth , the drama of passion, love, betrayal, lost in spirals and trapped in nets trying to survive the human condition on the stage is riveting. One of my favorites is “Rite of Spring”. It is tribal, virginal, sacrificial, and ends in celebration. So my small dancers leaping in a circle are frozen in their own rite of Spring.