the Eater of Dreams (she has none of her own) with an eternally Empty maw (give me, give mee, give meee)
I made this painting so I'd know her on sight and stay clear of her.
She's filthy, screeching, hateful, bitter.
Her Shape suggest the whittled-down hips of the modern ideal - prepubescent except for the boobs, which as everybody knows, are for attracting Men...if you haven't got a proper pair, buy yourself some. Not a bit of fat to get her through Winter on her own, not a curve to carry a child. She is the Spirit that demands we give ourselves away to become what others want. She's the Woman who goes back to a Man who doesn't love her, she's the Fool who roams the World clamoring for Attention rather than Love.
She's Empty, a negative energy that pulls you in and shits you out.
When you meet her in a barren Desert she's quite overwhelming. Another good reason to cultivate, as
Carolyn Hax would say, "a well-populated Life"
(yes i Capitalize Words as randomly as William Blake; he wrote a lovely Poem for my Birth Announcement so it's an HOMAGE)
this post is dedicated to several of my Mothers, for reasons which i hope won't come back to bite me. None of them read my blog so i'm prob safe
Also, thanks to
Piers Anthony for his desriptions of Harpies in all their foul-smelling glory.
