Magic of the Mask

Painting of a Stag Shaman in Le Trois Freres cave in France.
Shamanism is thought to be one of the first religions practiced by humans.

Who has not felt the thrill of putting on a mask to become something other than you are otherwise seen to be? Whether it was a Vampire mask for Halloween, a Nefertiti mask for a New Year's Eve party, or makeup for a role in a play, there is something mesmerizing about taking on a different persona. And so it has been for hundreds of thousands of years.

The oldest recorded masks are 40,000-30,000 years old, depicted in Paleolithic cave art. Masks allow us to perform sacred, practical, and playful roles. In the Himalayas they were used as mediators of supernatural forces. Similarly, pictures of shamans in varied cultures reveal the use of masks to shape shift for viewers. 

Tigerman Fight painting in Bhimbetka caves in central India.

In Asia, masked characters usually represent divinities, visages of glory, and are used to ward off evil associated with both the animal and divine worlds. In the United States, Mardi Gras allows mask wearers to play and tell stories. In Oceania, where ancestral worship is prevalent, masks are instruments of revelation, giving form to the sacred. Throughout Europe there are regional folk celebrations that often employ animal masks.

Bird Woman

The magic of the mask was certainly on my mind when I created my five-session creativity workshop; one session was devoted to mask making. With plaster gauze normally used for setting broken bones, participants made a mask of each other’s face and then decorated it to imaginatively depict their inner selves. I got the idea and instructions from Goddesses In Everywoman by Jean Shinoda Bolen.

Joe Bolton - Carved cedar wood Native American mask Haisla, BC

It is my practice to do whatever I ask my students to do. I was living in Victoria, B.C. on Vancouver Island then and one of my favorite Sunday afternoon outings was to visit the Native American art gallery inside the Empress Hotel. They  displayed incredibly beautiful carved traditional masks by First Nations people of the region. Being on an island, water was visible; there were numerous beaches; and seagulls were everywhere. Perhaps it was the combination of all those factors that led me to create a bird mask using sand and sea shells I had collected on a visit to Mexico. I used a white shoestring for the top edging.

LiDoña Wagner Bird Woman Mask 1996

At that time I was aware of the symbolism of the phoenix rising from the ashes and since I had recently left a 30-year career as an international social activist, that felt appropriate. But birds are also seen as linking heaven and earth so in many cultures birds represent the immortal soul. In cave paintings at Altamira they appear to represent the flight of the soul or the spirit flight of a shaman. 

LiDoña Wagner Bird Woman Mask 1996

Although we wore our masks in the final workshop celebration, being shaped to our faces, they were not comfortable. One woman had painted both the inside and outside of her mask so she mounted it on a stick so she could turn it either way. Most of us attached a wire to the back and hung them on our walls.

This Stone mask from 7000 BC may be the oldest in the world.

Sea Nymph

Later, in a workshop in Eugene, Oregon I discovered that I really missed the water that had surrounded me in Victoria. So I decided to marble my mask with sea green and blue paints. I adorned her with a long pale green and white scarf. I called her Sea Nymph.

Everything comes from and returns to the sea. The sea represents the female aspect of the unconscious. It is the place of birth, transformation, death, and rebirth. I was recovering from breast cancer at the time which felt like a brush with death. I had also just learned of my daughter’s melanoma and knew the prognosis was not good. I was hoping that the sea’s representation of the dynamism of life would rescue my daughter. It did not.

LiDoña Wagner transformed Sea Nymph 1998-2017

Transformation

While working on my project of tracing our human migration from East Africa to all parts of the world I sometimes invite a friend to review the work and give me feedback. Captivated by the three-dimensional pieces I was making for each alcove, one such visitor spotted Bird Woman on my studio wall. She asked which alcove this mask would accompany. I told her I had made it twenty years earlier. She was adamant that it belonged in this installation of our global human journey. Oh, really?

I wasn’t sure where Bird Woman belonged but I was pretty sure that Sea Nymph went with her. However Sea Nymph began asking to be transformed. Since she was clearly of the sea, I decided to attach shells to the crown of her head. That did not work. I removed them, leaving a series of holes at the top of the mask.

Sea Nymph looked so plain and nondescript, my next thought was to carve a fish skeleton into one side of her face. The plaster started to crumble when I began cutting. So I just cut out the base form of the fish. This allowed me to create the fish skeleton separately and to make it more durable by applying additional layers of plaster gauze. Since this was a ‘sacred’ fish related to the numinous world of the unconscious, I painted the fish skeleton iridescent pearl. A small turquoise stone I have carried for years seemed an appropriate fish eye.

LiDoña Wagner transformed Sea Nymph 1998-2017

Since ancient humans used animal skins for many purposes, I decided to simply make knots in some white leather cord to fill the holes in her upper forehead. Then I began attaching shells to the area of her ears, also using white leather cord. That seemed to somehow work. I had thought to attach the fish to the nymph mask but nothing I tried seemed right, so I decided to simply hang them together.

LiDoña Wagner Gifts of the Sea assemblage 2017

Gifts of the Sea Assemblage

As I ruminated on the two masks, Bird Woman and Sea Nymph, I felt they needed to be assembled with fishnet. I bought a cotton net bag and cut it apart to resemble netting. I hung the assemblage in an available wall space until I decided it belonged with Southwest Asia. That alcove focuses on the animal life that teemed throughout the world until homo sapiens began to exterminate them and dominate earth. 

While homo sapiens were in the minority, we were keen observers of animal behavior. It was from the predator animals that we learned to kill critters and eat their meat, thus developing a hunter gatherer lifestyle. In many ways homo sapiens identified with the animals they hunted. It was natural for them to perform rituals involving the characteristics of different animals. The use of animal skins and masks impersonating animals enriched their ritual life.

My ongoing research had revealed that ancient humans used to beat bark and make it into cords and ropes. So I added some primitive rope for texture and color. I don't think the position of the rope is quite right yet. I also realize that for exhibition purposes, the assemblage requires a solid backing that can be more easily moved than creating nail configurations in every location. 

A Life’s Work

Frankly, it felt sort of dorky to be including some of my early artwork in this current body of work on our global human journey. But I have come to accept that these early masks are evidence that what I am doing is a life work. My fascination with global cultures, antiquity, communication with the gods, and empowering women are lifelong passions. 

Fang Ngil funeral mask from N. Gabon

SOUTHEAST ASIA: Secrets of Angkor Wat

Southeast Asia: Water Is Life by LiDoña Wagner 34"x43"x1.5" 201

Angkor Wat: Sacred Antiquity

The shrieks of monkeys swinging among jungle vines sent shivers along my arms. Elephants that had appeared humungous moments before were mere specks on the surrounding fields below me. Last night’s moonlit Cambodian dancers seemed like a dream. It was 1968. I was climbing the steep staircases to each of three levels of galleries at the temple of Angkor Wat, determined to go to the top of this replica of Mount Meru, home of the gods in Hindu mythology.

Climbing higher and higher, through one narrow temple entrance into yet another smaller and more narrow one, all sense of time and personal identity seemed to drop away. I became an ancient human creature caught in the labyrinth of the mind, trying to give shape and form to its mystery.

Disorientation, not height, was giving me vertigo. The antiquity of Angkor Wat was occasioning something beyond awe. Its bas-relief figures were opening me to a world about which I knew little. I was stunned that a people who had created such a phenomenal culture had just walked away from it and allowed the jungle to take over. Trees growing at the tops of temples had roots that grew down the contours of the temple sides and into the earth beneath. Nature had triumphed over human inventions.

Rivers of Migration by LiDoña Wagner 16"x20"x1.5" 2014

The temples had been overgrown for centuries and were being recovered from the jungle with money and expertise from UNESCO. A small fraction of the temples had been uncovered and were in various stages of restoration. Where jungle growth still had the upper hand, one nearly fainted from a sense of being infinitesimal. Human beings had carved, and carried, and shoved and pushed rocks weighing close to a ton to build these enormous monuments. Then they had vanished and the jungle had claimed back the stones they had used. Once again human beings were scraping away the dirt, fitting the stones together, reassembling a vision of the birth of consciousness. But let them pause too long in weariness or stumble in their task and the vines, trees, monkeys and birds of the jungle would overtake them.

On the ground the elephants were imposing: their slow shifting of weight from one side to the other, enormous buttock, sagging grey skin, floppy ears, sad eyes and endlessly swaying trunks were new to me. I was puzzled by how they continued to thrive while the complex human culture which once occupied this exotic atmosphere had been erased by some unknown tragedy. I wondered at the power of life which their survival shouted at me.

Angkor Wat was the beginning of a life-long love affair with Asia. Herman Hesse wrote that the East is home and that was definitely what I felt as this pre-patriarchal culture filled me with awe and touched layers of my unconscious I had not previously known existed.
  
"The Cambodian people will last forever," smiled our guide. "We are a blend of all the Asian races. We love peace and believe in friendliness."

Unaware of Pol Pot’s killing fields, I believed him. The tumbling stones and insistent jungle pulled me back thousands of years, weaving around me an aura of mystery and beauty. I was in another world.

For three days we walked the wide stone-laid approach roads to the temples, climbed thousands of stone stairs, fingered the stone-carved monkeys, lions, Garuda birds, and listened to the stories of Sita and the gods and goddesses of Asian lore. Two nights we sat in the moonlight and watched the slow foot and finger movements of the Cambodian dancers dressed in cloth of the deepest, richest greens, purples, blues, magentas, their interwoven threads of gold shimmering with each gesture.

"How did it happen? Where did it go?" Over and over my mind chased the elusive thread of history. "How could such creativity, such magnificence, such imagination simply vanish from the earth?”

Himalayas: Water Source by LiDoña Wagner 8"x10"x.75" 2014

End of An Empire: Climate Change and Social Unrest

People had occupied this region of Southeast Asia since 3000 B.C.E. How could the phenomenal Khmer Empire, founded in the 6th century and a major power from the 9th to the 15th century abandon its glorious temple complexes and evaporate as an East Asian power? I am not the only person for whom WHY? and HOW? became obsessive questions.

The ruins of Angkor Wat were apparently found by a Cambodian king while hunting elephants around 1500. Spanish and Portuguese missionaries and Japanese settlers were in the region in the 17th century. Buddhist monks cared for the temples from the 15th to 19th centuries and continue to do so. But it was the 1863 travel notes of  French naturalist Henri Mouhot of his 1860 visit to Angkor Wat that brought global awareness of the these mind-blowing ruins and ignited scientific inquires.

Archeologists, anthropologists, biologists, and later climate scientists flocked to these majestic ruins in search of answers to our unsettling questions. Archeology is a slow process of painstaking excavation, reassembly, and interpretation. It has evolved into a myriad of interrelated sciences that study artifacts, flora and fauna, and connect to the genetic, climate, space, and mathematical sciences  as well. After my 1968 Angkor Wat encounter with soul-stirring questions I followed isolated and intermittent reports, mostly through National Geographic magazine.

Slowly, as the sciences began to cooperate and share across disciplines, a picture has begun to emerge of a wondrous water management system that centered around the capital of Angkor and reached its apex around 1181. A maze of canals managed by priests who also presided over temples to the gods, generally Hindu, created the region as a rice bowl for India and China. Angkor was the capital of a metropolitan region the size of New York City and home to 750,000 people. Their system of canals took thirty-two years of collective effort to build and sustain and became a primary communication system for the empire. As a crossroads for trade, new ideas were constantly flowing into this region known today as Cambodia.

Around 1330, the region’s climate changed. There were 7 years of drought that deforested the area. Interspersed with the droughts were huge monsoons that dumped tons of water so fast that it overran the canals. A bridge on the Ho River reveals how the river moved six meters and dropped six meters. Repairing the water system was an overwhelming task that came at the same time as religious and political upheaval.

Myanmar:Religious Crossroads by LiDoña Wagner  11"x14"x.75" 2014

In 1295 the last Hindu temple was constructed, representing the end of Brahminism. Sanskrit began to disappear. In 1308 the royal leader converted to Theravada Buddhism which is more individual than communal. Vassals were freed. The collective labor force for maintaining the water management system and the religious leadership that had overseen it began to crumble. At the beginning of the 14th century social upheaval blossomed, creating the setting for a fight or flight response. Migration out of Angkor Wat became the norm.

Indonesia: Spice Trade by LiDoña Wagner 11"x14"x1" 2014

Personal Epiphany: Crossing Thresholds

On a personal level, I have come to realize that, unbeknownst to me in 1968, the primary temple I was climbing through was a replica of my own life. I had crossed the first level’s thresholds of opportunity: acquiring education – the first in my blue-collar family to go to college; touring Africa – meeting revolutionaries in the struggle for independence; teaching radical theology – as an un-ordained female; and entering motherhood – giving birth to my daughter.

The second level thresholds ahead of me were not ones that I desired to cross. They were the thresholds of death: death of my mother within a year; death of millions of Cambodians and of my marriage within a decade; death of my social activism career within two decades; and death of my daughter within three decades.

Our Cambodian guide had said, “You must climb many steps to reach the central temple. It is difficult to ascend to the kingdom of the gods.”

What I found on the third level were the thresholds of life purpose: goddesses who inspired me to guide women to their strength and wisdom; history that demanded that I write about other parts of the world; beauty that encouraged me to become a visual artist; and ineffable mystery that instilled in me a spirituality that is not tied to any religion.

What thresholds are you ready to cross?

Borneo: Home of Original Migrants by LiDoña Wagner 11"x14"x1" 2014

SASSY YOGA TEACHER

Finally Learning to Meditate

BEGINNING THE JOURNEY

Last fall I began an eight-month yoga teacher training program. By the end of my first three-day weekend of sitting on the floor and doing yoga each day with mostly young and a few middle-aged students and teachers, it dawned on me that I am an OLD woman. I could get through the first day fairly well but went home overwhelmed and in a state of exhaustion. The second day was harder and by the third day I was hanging on by my fingernails. 

Denial about my passage from middle age into old age ended. I finally had to admit that the 78 year-old body of a woman who has spent 14 years at a desk lacks strength and resilience. As much as I wanted to be like the others, I was not. My confidence took a huge hit.

I reviewed the requirements for certification: attendance at 160 of the 200 hours of class; 20 hours of observations or assistant teaching; 30 recorded personal one-hour practice sessions; monthly homework of readings, content reviews, anatomy and other assignments; designing, researching and submitting a Diverse Audiences project; passing a content exam; and passing a teaching exam. Had I not paid for the program upfront, I might have quit. 

With a sigh of exasperation, I acknowledged that instead of this program helping me write the Maiden Migrations book as I had hoped, it would replace it. To face these daunting requirements, each month I created a weekly plan moving me forward on all requirements.

As the January content exam on philosophy/ethics, anatomy/physiology, and teaching methods exam loomed, I was freaking out. I asked a young friend who is an honors student in vascular technology how she studies. She said that she figures out what each teacher wants and then continually quizzes herself. 

“How do you do that?” I asked. “Flash cards. I make flash cards and then during our workouts at the gym one of my study mates and I take turns on the machines while the other person quizzes us.” 

I made and studied flash cards and, thanks to Kathleen, I passed with an 89 out of a 100. (70 was passing.) One criterion met!

Warrior Two Pose

SET UP FOR FAILURE

On completion of the content exam, the focus of weekends shifted to our teaching. Those of you who remember my charismatic lectures as a young woman or my moving personal growth workshops during middle age, would never have recognized the high-pitched squeaky voice in which I gave yoga pose cues. I was confused and devastated.

Years ago when I first went to India, I (and most of the other American staff), suffered three months of what we called “methods amnesia”. The unfamiliarity of the language, culture, and living conditions seemed to erase knowledge that we had taken for granted. Now I understand that a part of that was a total loss of self confidence. 

Midway through the program I acquired hearing aids and was feeling pretty vulnerable when we were shown a Ted Talk about how people learn more from failure than they do from success. Oh, great! 

In February we were put into two situations setting us up for failure. Having had a lecture on how to do asana/pose demonstrations, we were given ten minutes to prepare a demonstration. The object of this seemed to be that the critiquing instructor could then tell us everything we did wrong. Okey, fine. However, at the end of telling my group everything I had gotten wrong, she said, “But LiDoña has this sweetness that just makes you want to do whatever she says.” What?!!!

Later we were given ten minutes to prepare a fifteen-minute yoga sequence with some focus. I decided to focus on the three fundamentals: Grounding, Relax the Upper Palate, Full Commitment Exhale. My small group was sent to the lobby to teach. THE LOBBY! Ok, somehow I must grab my classmates’ attention so they can ignore people coming and going? Squeaky voice and all, I did alright on my first pose. Nevertheless it was followed with criticism of a better way to give the cues.

As I started into my second pose, the critiquing teacher interrupted me a second time with her idea of different language I could use. I lost my focus but somehow fumbled through the second pose. As I began my third pose, the instructor interrupted me AGAIN with different language to use. When she said, “Now go ahead …” something inside me snapped. I could feel tears welling up and looking inward I saw a large black rectangle appear in my solar plexus.

“I’m done.” I said and went to a bench to sit down. “O come on …” “No. I’m done.”

In the critique that followed this instructor spoke about my sweetness. Now that is not a term that anyone who knows me would ever use. In fact, one friend once said, “LiDoña has bad ass goddess energy that you don’t want to mess with.” Through tears, I said, “I had a plan. I was trying to follow my plan but you kept interrupting me.” She apologized but that did not remove the sting of disrespect I had experienced. I felt as though I was being seen and treated as a SWEET OLD LADY. Anger began to bubble.

That night I sent an email to the three instructors asking that they not use the term sweetness in future critiques. If they had nothing positive to say, then say nothing at all. Next day I spoke with the one who had interrupted me and told her, “You may interrupt me once, but no more than that.”

Child's Pose

TAKING CHARGE

Somehow I made it through the rest of that February weekend. But the disrespect I had felt led me to see that I had to take charge of my own teaching journey. So I made flashcards with the poses and appropriate cues for each and I asked some friends to let me practice on them. After the first friend session, even before she gave me written feedback, I analyzed why it went so well. 

• I was in my own home where I am comfortable.
• I had control of the space.
• I knew what my friend needed and designed a sequence to meet those needs.

At this same time I began attending a Yoga Nidra class - 30 minutes of gentle yoga followed by 30 minutes of guided meditation in which one sets an intention (Sankalpa). My intention was “I am a confident and competent Yoga teacher.” I followed this up by attending a Yoga Nidra Teacher Training workshop in which I decided that is the type of yoga I want to teach.

I did two more friend sessions and continued to reflect on the difference between teaching them and the practices we were doing with our classmates. A big factor was that when teaching friends I was not performing, I was focused on what they needed. I began thinking about what my fellow classmates needed. 

Many classmates have anxiety and all of us get up-tight when we have to teach each other. I knew from Shiatsu that this shows up as tension in neck and shoulders. My Shiatsu experience had given me some techniques for getting this area to relax. I decided that in my next practice sessions with classmates I would integrate this Shiatsu knowledge into a pre-yoga practice called Towel Work.

I reflected on how our instructors kept telling us that our task is “to hold space” for our students. Yet they were always throwing us into chaotic spaces that made it difficult to ‘hold space’. So I figured out optimal space arrangements for three practice groups in each of the two rooms that we used. 

In the March weekend, I insisted on optimal space arrangements. I focused on meeting the needs of my classmates, teaching a sequence of poses that would relax their neck and shoulders and down-regulate all of their hyper energy. Clear about what I was doing and why, my voice regained its naturally lyrical quality. My classmates (and instructors) seemed a bit stunned by a transformation that was obvious in my teaching. 

Bridge Pose

SELF CARE

One yoga teaching principle that I struggled to figure out was self-care - taking care of yourself so you do not harm yourself while teaching others. I bought a calming essential oil and a bracelet to put this on and used this before each teaching session in March, but it didn’t feel right. 

As the April weekend approached, we were given a heads-up (Thank You!) on what we would be teaching for the weekend. I prepared a 20-minute sequence that would simulate our final teaching exam. In searching for a theme, I remembered Progoff entrance meditations that I use when teaching journal writing. I realized that Letting the Self Become Still not only helps me relax and go inward but it helps hearers slow down their breathing. In choosing that for my theme I finally had a bridge between teaching personal growth workshops and teaching yoga.

That 20-minute down-regulating sequence incorporating the entrance meditation and shoulder work in a carefully orchestrated space met the needs of my classmates and was the best I had done. As far as I was concerned I was ready to pass the final teaching exam. I requested to go on the first day of exams in May so I would have adequate energy to teach a 30-minute sequence.

Goddess Warrior

SELF-ADVOCATE

When the schedule for our exams was posted before the May weekend, I was shocked to see that I was the LAST person on the first day. In requesting to go early I had explained my energy depletion to the lead instructor. In addition the arthritis in my right hip had added inconvenience. I did not know if I could physically make it to the end of the first day.

Humility in hand, I explained my situation to the second person on the schedule and asked if she would switch with me. Fortunately she agreed. On the day before the exam, rather than bone up on cues, I went for a massage and then stayed in that relaxed state of being. At the beginning of exams, the lead instructor told us that as long as we got up and taught for 30 minutes we pass the exam. We would receive written feedback on how we did and how to improve. I got good reviews and several suggestions for how to improve. Sigh of relief. Final criterion checked off the list! 

Once my exam was over, I began to reflect on my eight-month journey. Slowly I began to understand the black rectangle that had appeared in my solar plexus when I felt so disrespected in February. This is the body region associated with the third chakra - the power center. This center has to do with healthy boundaries, identity, self-confidence, self-worth, and personal power. It is related to the element fire. LiDoña means Fire Woman.

My sense of self and personal power had been diminished by my relationship to aging and by being violated in my teaching. The black rectangle represented an open doorway through which I had to pass to reclaim my self-confidence. I spent the last four months of the program becoming a self-advocate, facilitating optimal teaching space not just for myself but for others. I found my own inner resources and incorporated them into yoga. For the final exam I requested a time slot that could accommodate my aging body. 

I have created a new identity. I may be an old woman, but I am not a sweet old lady. Fire Woman is a Sassy Yoga Teacher.

Hunting Dog Pose

Bodhisattva Katrin

Bodhisattva image from March blog.

Last month I posted an image of a Bodhisattva I had created. My Australian friend (and self-declared sister), Katrin Ogilvy was quite taken with it, as she identifies as one who is on a path toward enlightenment. In dialogue, I suggested that I would like to make one that is specifically for her. I began to imagine what it might look like for the Bodhisattva statue to be on a map of Asia with the continent of Australia as her base.

I used the draft copy on the left, cutting out the figure. 

I asked Katrin to send me a photograph of herself. When I received the photo below, it seemed to me that it was already a picture of a Bodhisattva but that Katrin needed to recognize that in herself. I altered my initial image. I cut out the figure on the left map, placing the cutout on a pinkish-lavender matte board and pieces of the map at the edges of the matte board rather than as part of the central image. I glued everything onto the cutout, covering all of it except her orange earrings. 

Katrin exudes compassion and peace, the
qualities of a Bodhisattva. 

I decided immediately to use the pink of her sweater for some of the drape on the Bodhisattva statue that had captivated her. But I felt she needed more from the photograph for her to actually recognize her own Bodhisattva image. So I added the Irises from her garden. At one point I tried adding the bricks behind her image but it was too much. Instead I used slices from a photo of Vietnamese women setting lights out on the water. At one point I had considered using one of the lights in her headdress.

The only part of the draft copy on the right to make it into
the composition were some islands I used for her necklace.

Knowing Katrin’s global mindset, I considered placing the word ‘world’ at her feet but words did not seem appropriate, so instead I placed a golden half-sphere as the foundation for her image.  I also used gold foil for her headdress and her power symbol. One time-consuming activity was adjusting the size of the photo she sent in order to put her face on the statue. 

I honor and respect Bodhisattva Katrin.

Enjoying Leftovers

Some people enjoy leftovers from a good meal even more than the original repast. They say the seasonings and flavors come into full bloom when the food has set for a while.

In anticipation of exhibiting Part I of Eve's Imprint in 2018 or 2019, I have been focused on keeping the two and three-dimensional pieces of the installation together. Yet when I made the collage pieces for the Southwest Asia section of Maiden Migrations I had lots of leftovers: maps, copies of cave art, and variously sized photocopies of artifacts from the region. Recently it occurred to me that maybe some of these leftovers could be used for small ‘souvenir pieces‘ that some viewers might like to buy. So I pulled out the folder of left over pieces and started to play around. Below are the first six mementos to be finished. Another seven are in various stages of completion.

Indian Subcontinent

This collage uses pieces from four or five different maps that included India. As one of the first continents to be reached by migrants from East Africa, India began appearing on maps created much later by and for trade purposes. For this reason the subcontinent’s shape is generally recognized even by those who have little geographic education. I personally find it a very pleasing shape.

LiDoña Wagner, I Love India, Three Piece Collage
8" x 6" x 1" with 7" x 5" and 4" x 4" panels

Elephant Steed

It is common knowledge that elephants are some of the planet’s most sensitive and family-oriented animals. Ancient Indian people were also impressed by this animal’s strength and power. They learned how to ride and maneuver these large animals, making them ideal as a steed for hunting and defense.

LiDoña Wagner, Elephant Steed, Five-sided Collage 6" x 4" x 1" 

Elephant Hunt

I love this cave art depicting humans in some sort of battle. I have paired it with some fascinating cave art depictions of bulls. Having slaughtered many of these impressive animals, you can see that ancient Indians were interested in depicting the bony structure they found.

LiDoña Wagner, Elephant Hunt, Collage 10" x 10" x 2"

Indian Maidens Unafraid of Bulls

Speaking of bulls, here is another cave art depiction, this time with women who are by no means threatened by such huge animals. This image might be seen as a representation of equal masculine and feminine power.

LiDoña Wagner, Unafraid Indian Maidens, 
Five-sided Collage 4" x 6" x 1"

Bodhisattva 

Bodhisattva statues are found throughout India, China, as well as Northeast and Southeast Asia. While the bodhisattva concept is central to Buddhism, especially for Mahayana and Vajrayana schools, it has come into contemporary times as representative of an individual on the path to becoming a Buddha, one who is enlightened.

As a trading crossroads for thousands of years, India is both an eclectic mixture of religious and spiritual traditions and a synthesizer of many that passed through the area. Greek mythology and Zoroastrianism arrived from the west. Taoism and Confucianism came through from the east. Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism arose in the subcontinent itself. At the height of its power Islam made inroads.

LiDoña Wagner, Bodhisattva, Collage 12" x 9" x 1"
mounted with two 4" x 4" panels

Dance Celebration

Although much of the background of this cave art image has faded, the central vision of two dancers beneath a rainbow arch has survived. These central characters appear to me to be surrounded by other dancers so I brought out such figures. Someone from the subcontinent would probably be able to indicate what sort of celebration is being conducted. 

LiDoña Wagner,  Dance Celebration, 
Five-sided Collage 4" x 4" x 2"

Mea Culpa

Cave art, artifacts and statues depicted in these pieces are thousands of years old so I assume the images I have used belong in the public realm. I found most of them on Google Images and in art history and cartography books. Of course a more contemporary person took photos of this ancient art. To those who may accuse me of cultural appropriation or plagiarism, please know that my intent is to show respect for a significant artistic tradition and a part of the world that has had major global impact.

I am grateful to the individuals who made the photographs I have used. I hope that these photographers are not offended by my using their photos in the same way that I would use paint. I have altered them in a variety of ways such as enlargement, embellishment, multiplication, and combining of images. If anyone recognizes one of their photos and would like to receive credit, please contact me and I will do so.

Mediterranean Beginnings

I am using the same sketchbook for the Mediterranean region
of Eve's Imprint as I used for the environmental banner I
painted during my month-long residency in Assisi, Italy in 2014.
The back of the sketchbook (left) is covered with copies of the cover of
Catherine McKinley's book Indigo, about a color typical of this region.
The pink sticker marks where my current work begins.

Following up on a dream in mid-January, I made a quick sketch for
the Mediterranean region, barely discernible in my sketchbook below.
 I made three Mediterranean goddess tiles around 2000; reflecting
how the Eve concept is an evolving life's work. They may end up in a
vertical column along the side of the four boards rather than in the middle.

Our ancestor Ursula, center bottom highlighted in orange, migrated
into the region of contemporary Greece 45,000 years ago. The description
of her life by archeologist Bryan Sykes will be a helpful guide in choosing
how to depict the northern coast of the Mediterranean Sea.
From Sykes's book, The Seven Daughters of Eve. 

I usually start with maps of the selected region because I like
to use geographic features in the overall composition.

Next I blow up the maps to fit the boards I have chosen. In this
case it turns out that I blew up a different map for the west and east coasts
of the Mediterranean Sea than I had for the north and south coasts.

Bottom left, scarabs remind me of Greek, Syro-Phoenician, and
Egyptian influences throughout the region. The bottom right map shows
Minoan and Mycenaean trade routes throughout the Mediterranean Sea.
Tunisian ceramics reflect the colors and painting style of the region. 

The images in this spread show Tuscan influences from around 600 AD.
Though quite a bit later than the first migrations into the region 45,000 years ago,
designs or color may find their way into this work.. 

Here I have traced geographic features for the
northern and southern coasts onto their chosen boards.

This spread, especially ancient rock engravings on the right, helps me visualize
influences from and to North Africa (southern coast of the Mediterranean Sea).

From the northeastern coast of the Mediterranean Sea,
Greek architectural influence was felt throughout the region.
Note iconic Greek pillars in the North Africa photo above.

The tracing for the board on the right (eastern coast) has not been
done because I have not yet applied gesso to it.

Although this small vase was made in Thailand, the color
and pattern on the bottom are a source of inspiration for
the Mediterranean section of Eve's Imprint.
It will be interesting to see the impact of these varied images
as the Mediterranean region begins to take shape.