It wasn't so much an obsession with being beautiful , but an open , supperating wound around feeling ugly. This has to be understood for what it is , and not judged for what it isn't.
A sense of melancholy, of having been here before, and I'm not sure if I want to stay or leave. Memories cling, like old leather and musty books. Old lace shawl draped, ready to wrap around my cold body. Photographs of silent, long suffering women, look out at me from cracked walls. I know this room. I went silently mad here.
The Butterfly Maiden is a Hopi Native American Kachina, or spirit. A fertility goddess of the Springtime, who ensures healthy and bountiful crops. Psychologically she represents transformation and transition from one stage of life to another. She helps us to escape from entrapment, or situations that impede growth..
"Morning. The outer world of the so called real. The escape into the unreal, world of beauty. The two worlds - must they separate , or can they merge , flow into each other , fuse into a new world of heaven and earth?"
From 'The Inner World of Choice' by Frances G.Wickes