Spiraleena & Emily, Mother & Daughter Artists

 "Mask making really brought this full circle for me. Even the 

fear of death, as those little moments of panic when your 

eyes are covered , then your mouth with goopy plaster 

bandages. I found the only way to endure it was to surrender 

completely to deep slow breathing and calm. Looking at the 

un-decorated mask I found myself taken back to that day she

died, ( St. Patrick's day!) and musing as well on the thought 

of my own passing. I would hope people would come and 

make art,  sing, read poetry, say what they needed to say, 

and have a gathering around me, and finally all move together

into a state of bliss and awe."

The first question suggested to ask my white plaster mask, " who are you"?

And this came:

Who are you?

I am a new kind of mirror

Mystery mirror

Gauze bandages

Close eyes

Wrapped around jaw to

Close the mouth-

Like those first moments of

Repose

After

The last breath

When the priestess

Washes, anoints and

Readies

The sacred remains

For the Irish wake-

I await

Flowers and jewels

Totemic decor

Essence of which

Accompanies my journey

To the underworld-

Blesses those who remain

Remain

--Spiraleena

Spiraleena's Story:

It was a serendipitous moment in the calendar which only gave us one day we could all three work together, Denise, my daughter Emily and myself.

As it happened to be the exact one year anniversary of a dear woman who was a friend to each of us, Tyrell O'Neal, we all felt it was the best possible thing to do in memory of her.

Two days before the cancer claimed her life, she had asked that friends and community be invited over to her house for a collage making party. She had never wanted to talk about dying and therefore few knew how close she was.

I came in the afternoon on weds to be told at the door that she was on her deathbed and to come on in and make a collage if I wanted. Paper and magazine scraps were everywhere and friends were making art ( always one of Tyrells favorite activities!) in the living room while she was in the bedroom stuggling with her death. It was quite the odd scene! Very humorous, poignant and strange. I cancelled everything and stayed to help for the next several very intense days.

After a difficult, painful passage, storming and raining, it finally became calm. She moved out of pain and seemed to become very peaceful. Hours later the golden morning dawned. Her family all around, she quietly went beyond. With the mentor ship of two experienced friends I took on the task of caring for her body after her death. Preparation included washing her, closing her eyes, tying a ribbon around her jaw to close her mouth till rigor mortis set in. And finally anointing her with fragrant flower oils, and dressing her in mounds of flowers. All morning even before she passed, I had been stuck by how beautiful she was after the pain was gone and in the golden light after the rainstorm. I was unprepared however, for the radiance
glowing from her after she died, which carried on for hours. She was Irish, and It was truly an Irish, pagan wake.

So much healing had happened in this transition and all noted the feeling of the divine, miraculous, mystery and a great presence of love. Many were afraid at first to look at her body( many had not seen a corpse before, especially the children). We read poems around her dear dead body and told stories and sang songs, all with reverence and even some comedy,at times. Mask making really brought this full circle for me. Even the fear of death, as those little moments of panic when your eyes are covered , then your mouth with goopy plaster bandages. I found the only way to endure it was to surrender completely to deep slow breathing and calm. Looking at the un-decorated mask I found myself taken back to that day she died, ( St. Patrick's day!) and musing as well on the thought of my own passing. I would hope people would come and make art,  sing, read poetry, say what they needed to say, and have a gathering around me, and finally all move together into a state of bliss and awe.

Cover me with flowers and take care of each other. Mask making helped me in a way that just talking or even writing about it could not; moving me to that liminal place of possibility.

 Denise was a wonderful facilitator, hostess, and priestess of this journey/work, and I am well pleased! My daughter and I met Denise at a new moon circle and we made masks there( the only two times in my life I've made a mask!) another full circle, having Emily there.