My dear friend, the healer and artist came to see me and we walked the St. Jude and the Nativity Labyrinth twice, as well as the St. Joseph’s labyrinth once. She is a life long student of the brain and body, and her thoughts as she walked the labyrinth as a landscape of the brain intrigued me. Even the stones became the people in her life, and I gazed at them with a new appreciation. As always, when I walk a labyrinth with another, I am deeply aware of how we come together, walk alongside each other, and then move further or closer away from each other as we make our way on our own part of the path. Earlier in the week, I thought about how many times I had tread the path, and how it was becoming more and more part of me in some way. I thought again of my childhood home, and how the presence of my loved ones felt indelible, whether or not they were in the house or not. It comforted me to think that part of me is always at the labyrinth.
Together my friend and I visited the Rodin Museum. I had been once before, but this time, the greatness of the sculptures inspired me even more deeply than they had on my previous visit. I had never noticed the tension in The Thinker’s toes, or Balzac’s stance which gave him a humorously arrogant quality. The Burghers of Calais remained for me pitiable and noble at the same time. A new, small casting caught my eye on this visit. A hand holding a female form. It is a creation story, equating God, the Artist and the Lover. Or so I think. I discover later it is called The Hand of the Devil Holding Woman. I would much prefer to tell my own story. Rodin did create a piece called The Hand of God, also holding a figure. He modeled it after his own hand. The Devil’s hands are longer and more elegant.