“According to Physiologus (the traditional lore of animal psychology), the lion’s cubs are stillborn. They must be awakened into life by a roar. That is why the lion has such a roar: to awaken the young lions asleep, as they sleep in our hearts.”
—James Hillman, The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World
I had the red handle for a while. I found it at a thrift store—a sumi brush missing its bristles. I anticipated, one day, I would use it to support a rattle. There is something about pre-owned things that intrigues me and makes me feel deeply connected. I imagine an elaborate history connected to each item. In my mind, the imaginal history becomes real, and extends from the original object, to its next incarnation, when I repurpose it into art. Within this particular handle, I imagine the wisdom of some Chinese philosopher passing through the center, from some ancient place and time, onto xuan paper, in black ink. I have learned that the goal of this method of ink wash painting is not simply to reproduce the image of a subject, but to capture its spirit…or even its soul. My heart delights as I ponder my thrift store find.
I chose to make a rattle lioness out of clay to symbolically awaken the cubs in my own heart. With a propensity for the dramatic, I wanted my rattle to make a great roar. I filled her with wild rice, and adorned her with beads and bells. Once painted and assembled, I gave her a shake.
tinkle, tinkle, tinkle… shh, shh, shh
She barely made any sound at all. She certainly didn’t roar. I was crushed. This was my second attempt at making a rattle. Both turned out sounding muffled and soft.
tinkle, tinkle, tinkle… shh, shh, shh
I created her in ritual space…lighted candle, prayer, incense, and song. I spoke to her with my heart as I painted her face and knotted her grass mane. Still, she was not how I intended her to be.
“Soul work of any kind lies in the art of the subtle.”
—Robert Sardello, Facing the World with Soul
And so has she called herself forth.
So softly, so subtly, she whispers her rattle song. My heart responds.
I no longer need her to roar.
© 2013 Kim McAndrews
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