So many folks shared this video on my timeline as well as send me private
messages with this link.
So I am sharing it again because it's *so* important to me - these
women are not just making pasta, they are weaving stories and magic, they are
rolling myth and healing.
I want to say thank you to everyone who has tagged me in the comments
in this original post, shared this link with me, etc. Thank you. Thank you.
*For seeing me* - To know that when you watched this, you thought of me, and
took the time to send it to me. That is such great support and validation for
the work I do - to be thought of. To be known as someone keeping the healthy
ways and traditions of our ancestors alive. I am in deep gratitude.
xx
MB.
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In this round of Blood + Belonging I think I’ll spend more time and
energy in the food as ancestors space :: the deeper I get into this work, this
exploring, the retelling of the story of my near and far culture, the more I
find myself in the dirt or the kitchen or filling my belly. Anything that
brings me closer to seed or soil or fire or pot, I am remembering a deeper
meaning of being human. . . As I make this and feed my own life, my children’s,
I also feed the dead - not just their spirits but within the cells of their
descendants. We carry the meaning and nourishment on.
·
Fruit of the d e a d .
.
A deep red fruit native to Iran and across to the Himalayan Mountains, it was also brought and cultivated throughout the Mediterranean since way back and ancient ancestral times.
.
.
It’s call the fruit of the dead for its relations w the Queen of Death herself :: Persephone. Its blood red known as death blood, for as the common myth goes, Persephone ate the seeds and had to stay in the underworld - but - they are also known as the blood of life - a symbol of fertility and manifestation and nourishment. A telling thing to me that the door between death and birth/live is fast and revolving. It is conscious. Thin. And we have agency about what otherworlds we choose to travel in. .
.
When all else dies we can still have seeds of ancient and original blood. We can still be nourished and can care for ourselves and tend to those who need us. .
.
I split open this fruit and know this: it will be my anchor as shit falls apart and collapses this season and it will also be my nourishment as I create amidst all the dying.
.
.
In these coming dark days. Gather your seeds. Eat them. Slowly. Let the juice become your skin. Let them be sustenance and creativity and be held close in your belly as you devote yourself to the journey down down and in in. .
.
#pomegrante #persephone #fruit #writersofinstagram
.
A deep red fruit native to Iran and across to the Himalayan Mountains, it was also brought and cultivated throughout the Mediterranean since way back and ancient ancestral times.
.
.
It’s call the fruit of the dead for its relations w the Queen of Death herself :: Persephone. Its blood red known as death blood, for as the common myth goes, Persephone ate the seeds and had to stay in the underworld - but - they are also known as the blood of life - a symbol of fertility and manifestation and nourishment. A telling thing to me that the door between death and birth/live is fast and revolving. It is conscious. Thin. And we have agency about what otherworlds we choose to travel in. .
.
When all else dies we can still have seeds of ancient and original blood. We can still be nourished and can care for ourselves and tend to those who need us. .
.
I split open this fruit and know this: it will be my anchor as shit falls apart and collapses this season and it will also be my nourishment as I create amidst all the dying.
.
.
In these coming dark days. Gather your seeds. Eat them. Slowly. Let the juice become your skin. Let them be sustenance and creativity and be held close in your belly as you devote yourself to the journey down down and in in. .
.
#pomegrante #persephone #fruit #writersofinstagram
a n c e s t r a l h u n g e r.
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