recuerda mi corazon

shrine the divine

  

 

 

 one tarnished silver tray

quiet hours

letting go and letting in

finding peace

in the reassembling.

 

serving mary

metal, glass, paper, acrylics,

flotsam and jetsam

 

 

 

 

 

the fragrance of roses

years ago,

memories all mixed up in the 

fragrance of roses,

my mother and i traveled to mexico city

 to the basilica virgin de guadalupe.

fittingly the hotel was once a convent,  our room a nuns cell,

a single bed, penitence hard.

 by morning we were on a

 a local bus, 20 pesos to fulfill a dream.

chattering uniformed school children filled the isles,

mothers wrapped in rebozos cradling babies,

quiet husbands,

everyone curious with the two gringas

smiling radiantly on their familiar ride.

silently

crossing themselves

as we arrived;

one hundred hands folding origami  

peace doves in thin air. 

 we left the bus together,

a cluster of bright flowers thrown into a sea of devotees.

under the weight of 12 million worshipers a year,

Templo Expiatorio a Cristo Rey,

built between 1503 and 1709,

began to sink

...and in time a new basilica was erected.

as we wove our way silently inside the concrete walls,

my heart sank.

courting a vigil that bowed back

over five hundred years 

 i was not prepared for the carpeted,

ultra modern cavernous interior...

replete with moving sidewalk to glide each pilgrim

as if walking on water

beneath the most revered ancient textile in mexico.

yet, as we passed directly under the sacred cloth

there was a presence and peace that transcended all time.

yet it was when we walked the ancient cobblestones

around the enormous basilica to a small,

humble stone chapel that my heart flooded.

 here, juan diego lived out his entire life,

speaking of the virgin

to anyone who would lend an ear.

upon entering,

men and women paused

to carefully pluck one petal

from the enormous bounty of roses

spilling over a life size statue of juan diego.

they would hold the delicate cup of pink

to their lips while they prayed.

their breath,

a flame of devotion, filling the tiny vessel.

when their prayers were exhausted

 they took the infused petals

and rubbed them in utter adoration

over juan diego's marble

heart, mouth, eyes. 

imagine, being painted with prayer infused rose petals

for eternity.

i still have my small paper thin petal,

curled like a tiny fist holding tight

to peace. 

shrine from the series of

Serving Mary

vintage silver tray, glass, solder, paint, gold leaf, found objects

***

welcome to day eleven of the 

twelve days of mary

may you carry the rose of compassion close to your heart.

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serving mary

 

silver roses, 

a long forgotten serving tray,

paints, embellishments, 

promise and love;

held between glass and the hope of helping others.

 

 Serving Mary 

a series where each piece is created

from resurrected offerings discovered at a thrift store;

where all proceeds support women and children

carving out a new life. 

what better way of

Serving Mary,

when the very act of creating each shrine transforms the lives of others.

 

Alma de Maria

soul of mary

inspired from a nineteenth century oil on tin

mexican retablo and the hope of helping others

***

twelve days of mary

a chance to begin each day in honoring and light

 

 

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mornings with mary a heart for peace

 

 

 

if we want there to be peace in the world

we have to be brave enough to soften what is rigid in our hearts.

to call ourselves back to compassion,

to see with the eyes of a mother

who loves all her children.

 

 

thank you for mondays and sharing yours.

xoxoxoxo

 

 

 

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