Click any flower to enlarge all.
These gorgeous little flowers were growing by the road. The largest was no more than 3/4 inch wide. Those are grass spikes behind them, if you want to guage their size. I’m holding the lower part of the stem so you can’t guage their size by my fingers as they are closer to the camera. My friend couldn’t understand what I was bending over and doing as I photographed them. Lovely miniature posies.
Numerous Mexican legends surround Rabbit, and each object in this retablo depicts one of them. Even the name “Mexico” is derived from Nahuatl words for the rabbit in the moon; and its capitol, Mexico City, is built on six lakes in the form of a rabbit. If you open the box this retablo sits upon, you will find inside a manuscript that conveys the story of the rabbit in Mexican legend and how I was drawn to it. The Aztecs had a legend of 400 drunken rabbits who were the gods of pulque–a drink made of fermented Maguey–the same plant that Tequila is made of. The woman sitting next to rabbit might be Mayahuel, the goddess of Maguey, but it is more likely that she is the Jaina woman explained in the quote below from the book Maya Terracottas.
“Representations of Maya women occur more commonly as Jaina figurines than in any other medium. These Jaina figures represent two kinds of women, both archetypes of female behavior. One is a stately, courtly woman who is sometimes shown weaving; the second is a courtesan who appears with all sorts of mates, from Underworld deities to oversized rabbits. The imagery of both derives from Maya concepts of the moon, perceived as an erratic, inconsistent heavenly body, whose constantly changing character follows the monthly cycle of female menses…
…The second female type is far more active, and she projects her sexuality…she is usually bare-breasted, and she gestures, as if offering herself to others. The demure woman may be painted in various colors, but this one is generally painted blue…Nothing else in Maya art conveys sexuality more convincingly than these figures. Although they may be conceived as the moon goddess and her consorts, they also reflect human behavior. As companions for the dead – perhaps particularly for old men – they seem to promise renewed sexual activity. For the living, such Jaina figurines may have been titillating objects for private observation.” (Schele: 1986, p. 153). Cf. Kimball, Maya Terracottas, p. 23
Since Fandango’s prompt isn’t up yet and I didn’t post to yesterday’s prompt of Legend, I’m doing so now. This is a reblog of a post done three years ago.
Click on any photo to enlarge all and see as slide series.
Cee gives us quite a bit to choose from today. Hope all of these things don’t need to be in one photo: geometry, bushes, window, brick, curtain, green, tan, wall, building, dark red, tree.
Some of the photos have many of the required components, all have some of them and all of the words are represented somewhere. Hide and go seek!
I’m not sure what this tiny flower was–perhaps a chive bloom? I barely noticed it leaning over in the tall grass of my lower garden. Beautiful in macro, though.
Chances are one of these photos depicts a kerfuffle. Click on first photo to enlarge all and view as a slide series.
In Search of Kerfuffles
What, I must ask you, is a kerfuffle?
Is it a soufflé or perhaps a ruffle?
Is it that fuzz that hides under beds
or those stubborn snarls at the back of our heads?
Perhaps they are tasty and come with whipped cream—
a dieter’s nightmare, a sweet tooth’s fine dream.
Do kerfuffles have feathers and beaks on their noses
to fly overhead and poop on our clotheses?
Does one have to walk them or clean up their messes?
I’m no closer to knowing, in spite of these guesses.
Guess I’ll quit my job and pack up a duffle,
set off in the world to find a kerfuffle.
And when I discover it, I’ll bring it home
and finally be able to finish this poem.
The Ragtag prompt today was kerfuffle.
My plumeria just keep on blooming this year, so here they are again. Fresh crop.
This tiny fellow was hiding out in the front garden. Not quite a flower, but….
I Just Can’t See Infinity
If my life was infinite,
no doubt I’d make a mess of it.
It’s hard enough to get it right—
to be law-abiding and polite—
for eighty or one hundred years.
We need time off for shifting gears.
Tyrants must get tired of
ruling the world with fisted glove,
and perfect folks must need deflection
from their lives of stark perfection.
Reincarnation is just right
for exchanging one life’s plight
for another set of woes.
For trying out some different clothes!
For giving us another chance
to trade in Omaha for France!!!
Let us be mortal. Let it be.
We do not need infinity!!!
The Daily Addictions prompt is infinite.
