At first, I didn't "get" the references to the hyena biting off the top of the i in Bitch. Cracking open the self is rather different, isn't it? Or maybe not. We've all felt our well-established selves begin to crack when something disrupts us, a job loss, an accident, a death, but The WanderFinder reminds us that a crack can be joyful, a chance to see the world and ourselves from a different point of view; like a cow or a whale or a hyena, even through a catsuit.
P. S. Why does the cover of Bitch feature a hard-to-recognize hyena" I think I read that male hyenas are very good dads. Are we supposed to know that?
I've written about how the day I saw Star Wars way back in 1977 I also saw The Island of Dr. Moreau and actually liked Moreau better. I spent the rest of the summer running around in the woods and fields with my dogs, imagining myself as some half human/half animal superhero creature.
These days I work harder to reconnect to my own animal nature, something we all have and are to varying degrees deeply disconnected from. I am surrounded by representations of animals – images on my walls, carvings, plastic figures – in a way that if someone suggested them as religious talismans they wouldn't be too far from the truth. I even collected one each for the seven sacred animals who represent the ideals behind my Anishinaabe Seven Grandfather teachings. I like them. We have much to learn from them. They were our original teachers after all, they can teach us again.
I'm thinking of a Blackfeet relative who told the story of when he was at university and some anthropologist tried to tell him the Blackfeet are a patriarchal culture. He urged the guy to go visit his mom and aunties and see if he came away without scratches and broken bones for suggesting such! He went on to say that this perception came because when whites encountered Blackfeet, it was the men they met first. But not because men were "in charge," but because their roles were defined by how their relative, the buffalo, interacted with threats. The herds would circle, and the bulls were the first line of defense. I'm not doing the paraphrase justice, but it was wonderful.
Talisman, yes. I feel like it’s hard to avoid talking about exploring one’s animal side without -- oh, almost making it commercial, the way “talisman” can sometimes have a commercial taint to it. It makes trying to think about wanting to be like an animal into choosing from a menu -- I want to be strong, so I’ll buy an ox or a lion figure, that kind of thing.
But what I think you’re referring to -- & what I’m trying to get at -- is the other meaning of Talisman, the expression of the self through an animal lens, or maybe the loss of the self a little into the animal, or maybe just the realization that humans don’t have sole ownership on how to experience the world. And yes, that we can & should learn from the animals.
I love the idea of learning from the buffalo who form circles of protection -- that makes so much sense to me.
I've got Bitch and Immense World in my bookstore cart. You can probably tell from "The Beast on Me" that I was into furry Fandom decades ago. My entry was through animation. I never made a fursuit, but I have friends who did. I moved on from the Fandom after college, but I get their exuberance for animals. I wish I could talk with all forms of life. Instead of words we can speak in kindness, and respect. For example, the groundhog who jumped into my pool after Sarah frightened him, will not be trapped and moved. He's got a burrow under the shed. Unless he makes a habit of swimming while I am, it's live and let live.
“Instead of words we can speak in kindness, and respect.” -- this is such a great way to put it. And I was thinking of your “The Beast in Me” essay, I’ll refer to it next week(?) once I (hopefully) get all the sources sorted out. Swimming with a groundhog sounds like it could actually be kinda fun to me -- but then again, I have made some regrettable choices in my time, and that might just be a significant one.
At first, I didn't "get" the references to the hyena biting off the top of the i in Bitch. Cracking open the self is rather different, isn't it? Or maybe not. We've all felt our well-established selves begin to crack when something disrupts us, a job loss, an accident, a death, but The WanderFinder reminds us that a crack can be joyful, a chance to see the world and ourselves from a different point of view; like a cow or a whale or a hyena, even through a catsuit.
P. S. Why does the cover of Bitch feature a hard-to-recognize hyena" I think I read that male hyenas are very good dads. Are we supposed to know that?
I've written about how the day I saw Star Wars way back in 1977 I also saw The Island of Dr. Moreau and actually liked Moreau better. I spent the rest of the summer running around in the woods and fields with my dogs, imagining myself as some half human/half animal superhero creature.
These days I work harder to reconnect to my own animal nature, something we all have and are to varying degrees deeply disconnected from. I am surrounded by representations of animals – images on my walls, carvings, plastic figures – in a way that if someone suggested them as religious talismans they wouldn't be too far from the truth. I even collected one each for the seven sacred animals who represent the ideals behind my Anishinaabe Seven Grandfather teachings. I like them. We have much to learn from them. They were our original teachers after all, they can teach us again.
I'm thinking of a Blackfeet relative who told the story of when he was at university and some anthropologist tried to tell him the Blackfeet are a patriarchal culture. He urged the guy to go visit his mom and aunties and see if he came away without scratches and broken bones for suggesting such! He went on to say that this perception came because when whites encountered Blackfeet, it was the men they met first. But not because men were "in charge," but because their roles were defined by how their relative, the buffalo, interacted with threats. The herds would circle, and the bulls were the first line of defense. I'm not doing the paraphrase justice, but it was wonderful.
Talisman, yes. I feel like it’s hard to avoid talking about exploring one’s animal side without -- oh, almost making it commercial, the way “talisman” can sometimes have a commercial taint to it. It makes trying to think about wanting to be like an animal into choosing from a menu -- I want to be strong, so I’ll buy an ox or a lion figure, that kind of thing.
But what I think you’re referring to -- & what I’m trying to get at -- is the other meaning of Talisman, the expression of the self through an animal lens, or maybe the loss of the self a little into the animal, or maybe just the realization that humans don’t have sole ownership on how to experience the world. And yes, that we can & should learn from the animals.
I love the idea of learning from the buffalo who form circles of protection -- that makes so much sense to me.
Yes, my talismans are essentially plastic toy junk if you get right down to it. I love them anyway.
Ha! Yep, that too. I think it’s how they are in your heart that counts though. (I still have stuffed animals ... ask me about Snuffles sometime!)
I would feed the groundhog, but Louie likes to explore the yard, and I don't want them to cross paths. Louie would chase him and get hurt.
I've got Bitch and Immense World in my bookstore cart. You can probably tell from "The Beast on Me" that I was into furry Fandom decades ago. My entry was through animation. I never made a fursuit, but I have friends who did. I moved on from the Fandom after college, but I get their exuberance for animals. I wish I could talk with all forms of life. Instead of words we can speak in kindness, and respect. For example, the groundhog who jumped into my pool after Sarah frightened him, will not be trapped and moved. He's got a burrow under the shed. Unless he makes a habit of swimming while I am, it's live and let live.
“Instead of words we can speak in kindness, and respect.” -- this is such a great way to put it. And I was thinking of your “The Beast in Me” essay, I’ll refer to it next week(?) once I (hopefully) get all the sources sorted out. Swimming with a groundhog sounds like it could actually be kinda fun to me -- but then again, I have made some regrettable choices in my time, and that might just be a significant one.