from the small book: STONES
c. Ani Rose Whaleswan LSu 2007
introduction:
LIVING STONES
I have always collected "rocks."
From my early childhood there could be found "rocks", in my pockets, in buckets of water outside, in bowls of
water hidden in my room, in my mouth, in my dresser drawers (clothes on the floor), on the floor of my closets, windowsills....
I well remember a common family put-down, "you and your rocks!"
As and adult I still collect stones, for
my garden, my window sills, my bedroom and fountains, my pockets.... Now my older children get a bit frustrated when they
have to help me move them around, but they accept this littel quirk in me, and share some fascination
when I find an unique "rock" or fossil. They simply expect that when I come home from a hike or travels, I will have
new specimens for show and tell. Friends have brought me stones from the Oregon coast, Matla, Tennesee, the Black
Hills, Nepal....
Get me to a creek bed or some
body of water, or dry canyon, wherever, and I can spend hours finding and marveling the stones of place. I seem
to have a "knack" for finding fossils, unique mineral formations, tools, crystals, and stones that look like women -- goddess
figures, to me. I think we share some energy, and they find ME, too.
I build stone CIRCLES and leave them for
others. I build balanced pillars of stones. I pray with them, feel them, appreciate them. If they
are quite large I hug them, lay on them, soak them in. I read folklore and myths involving stones and stone circles
around the world. I look up circle pix around the world and stare at my computer. I find myself moved viewing pix of
megaliths and mysterious sites where peoples of all time have related somehow spiritually and culturally to stones,
"plain old rocks."
Stones are my friends. They endure.
During years and years of childhood neglect and abuse, in hiding places, i had my "rocks." They were solid
companions. Even if others could nto see it, I knew they were beautiful and amazing. We understood each other. Special ones
were "my little secrets." I had something meaningful which no one else could know about, or hurt.
"These rocks used to be
mountians, " I tell my young daughter. She still openly marvels that mystery with me openly. "They're on their
way to sand, maybe a beach s omewhere. maybe they'll be part of another mountain someday." They speak of history,
change, process, enduring strength in long, long journeys.
When I set out consciously to create a tangible
art project for survivors of trauma, STONES seemed like the obvious answer. STONES, bearing words which have been
so important to my own healing surely will speak to others, I thought. So i set out to do it, and the result is
a task much larger and ongoing that I expected, and wonderful to be a part of.
I have hope that the STONES you choose,
or which call out to you, will speak to you deeply and become a powerful, enduring part of your healing process. To
this end, I have created this small book to accompany the STONES.
Here you wil find, for each original WORD
inprinted in clay, some of my personal definitions and thoughts, a little on my story and the meaning for
each, some quotes from myth and tradition here and there, and some questions to aid you in considering your own
meaning. A closing blessing is offered as well, and is in fact my personal wish for you.
The STONES are made of clay - generally
one stage of any stones' millenial history. They are formed in a way reminiscent of ancient standing stones. They
are each hand formed, individually imprinted, as much as possible in a conscious, prayerful and hopeful manner. The
energy in these STONES , and in this small book, is meant for sacred sharing. May it be so.
