Speaking in a red dress to redress the balance of the Sacred Feminine is a big deal. I didn’t know if I could do it. The last time I wore red (with black) I was in my early teens, and was told by my ‘friend’ that these were “a prostitute’s colours”. Funny how comments like that stick with you...
Did wearing red at the ARC Convention have an effect on me? Well, as a matter of fact – yes. It did. Something quite profound. Listen again and you might feel the beginnings of it.
by Pablo Neruda (1904 - 1973)
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.