punchinella
This card is about agony, specifically the agony of women, which in & of itself is a connection with the divine. This woman--twisted up, in a deep extreme of feminine experience, for whom the sky itself weeps--is a beginning and an end . . . she is REAL, this moment is real . . . the entire structure of the society from which, due to the intensity of her anguish, she feels cut off, exists both because of and for her . . . she has given birth to the all which rises in state behind to watch and support her struggle, giving birth to the all . . .
She is a reservoir of strength, THE reservoir from which sustenance flows (note the muscular arms, the breasts); the gentle power who makes happen what must happen, quietly & simply, just because it must. She transforms what is available (snow) into what is needed (milk) simply by holding it cupped in the palm of her hand. The simplicity of her magic is such that the whiteness of the snow becomes sheer light, energy, a brilliance far greater than that reflected by emblems of masculine power, the 5 solar discs on the edifice beyond.
Even these discs' positioning in & around the vastly greater rose acknowledges her centrality, as she is the rose: 3 x 4, to medievals a complete & perfect number. Unity, wholeness, the path through which light itself enters this world: she is all of these things: she is the window. Her agony is the middle place between the safe world we know, and the weather beyond. She transmits for us, but at the price of exposure.
She is a reservoir of strength, THE reservoir from which sustenance flows (note the muscular arms, the breasts); the gentle power who makes happen what must happen, quietly & simply, just because it must. She transforms what is available (snow) into what is needed (milk) simply by holding it cupped in the palm of her hand. The simplicity of her magic is such that the whiteness of the snow becomes sheer light, energy, a brilliance far greater than that reflected by emblems of masculine power, the 5 solar discs on the edifice beyond.
Even these discs' positioning in & around the vastly greater rose acknowledges her centrality, as she is the rose: 3 x 4, to medievals a complete & perfect number. Unity, wholeness, the path through which light itself enters this world: she is all of these things: she is the window. Her agony is the middle place between the safe world we know, and the weather beyond. She transmits for us, but at the price of exposure.