Hans Silvester and the People of the Omo Valley

I get a lot of information and inspiration from my friends on Facebook. A few months before I started creating my mother warrior headdresses, someone shared this video of the photography of Hans Silvester.

Silvester photographed the people of the lower valley of the Omo, at the borders of Ethiopia, Kenya and Sudan, where the Surma and Mursi tribes use the materials at hand in nature to decorate their bodies.

The images are captivating and stunningly beautiful.

Taking inspiration from these images, I decided to make my headdresses of natural materials as much as possible. Two of the finished pieces are pictured below.

 Believe me - it is a hard act to follow after seeing the creations of the tribes of the Omo Valley!

Mother Warrior Dancer

Mother Warrior Nurturer

The model, my friend Gaea Yudron. Yes they can be worn!

The place of dreams and blessed folly

"Often I tried the frightening way of reality. Where things that count are profession, law, fashion, finance. But disillusioned and freed, I flee away, alone. To the other side, the place of dreams and blessed folly” Hermann Hesse

During my mother warrior tribal journey, some would say that my mind had truly fled … and not to a good place. In order to raise funds for my child's care, I sold my house and maxed my credit cards; got more credit cards and maxed them too.

I had heard the stories about people who find superhuman strength in a crisis, or who find meaning in a place of extreme brutality or can sacrifice their lives for another human-being.  I thought of those mothers who defy the legal system, snatch up their children and go into hiding. There are also the heroic everyday sacrifices – people putting off retirement, or selling a house to put their children through college. This was nothing that any other good parent wouldn’t do.

My ex-husband and the father of the child would not help me, although he was fully capable of doing so. I asked him, “What else can be done?”  He had no viable option and for me he faded into the background, whining self-righteously.  

I have not forgotten or forgiven him yet. I hope I can do so in my life-time.

I went for help to an accountant, another woman, who asked me, “Do you want my financial take on this or do you want me to factor in the personal issues?”  I was deeply touched that she acknowledged the other things at issue here -- values other than "the bottom line."

We put our heads (and hearts) together and somehow made it work. Still even today, I hover -- like many people -- on the verge of disaster since I have used up my resources.

There was another force running my choices. This child I loved was adopted and I had promised his birth-mother to keep him safe. I did not realize the depth of my commitment to her until it was tested.

During this time I created a mother warrior headdress I called “The Triumphant", and although my child was not yet out of the woods, I experienced a sense of personal triumphant. Some line had been crossed and my instincts, heart and head were all working in perfect concert.

Better I should call it the headdress of "Dreams and Blessed Folly!" It can be worn, but it is rather like wearing a big birthday cake!

 

My year as a mother warrior

In 2010 I became a mother warrior and began my tribal journey.

One of my children was in danger.

I pulled out all the stops. Every moment of my waking days and barely sleeping nights focused on this child. There was none of my usual second guessing and ambivalence. I knew what I had to do.

It was the first time in my life that I acted mostly from instinct. 

I was bold and fearless.

And I felt like I was waging war.

I was fortunate to be working at the time with a (more than) art teacher named Cathy Dorris. She wanted to do a Tribal art show featuring work inspired by African headdresses. My art work up until this time was mainly drawings on paper:

Metamorphosis Mandala IV

Cathy Dorris is both artist and healer. She listened, shared her own mother warrior stories and helped me make the move from flat to 3-D.

For inspiration we poured over images of actual North African tribal headdresses. These became burned into my brain, and my first headdress was a pretty accurate replica of an actual male warrior's headdress - mud color and all.

Before long Cathy's studio became my haven.

And during this most nightmarish time of my life I created one tribal headdress after another, until I had made six (with visions of many more in my head.) I called them the "Mother Warrior Headdresses." I made them so that they can actually be comfortably worn.

The images below are of the first one of the series:

The Mother Warrior I

When I think back – I barely remember making them. When I look at them now I know they represent the unfettered and fierce out-pouring of my pain, anger, passion and hope.

Creating them empowered and sustained me during this dark time.

Occasionally I asked myself, "What are you doing? You are a white middle-class middle-aged suburban mother. Why are you obsessively creating things from a way of life of which you know nothing?"

All I can say is that it felt so right.

And I came to the conclusion that the world is smaller and we are more like others than we think.

Fierce mother-ness, creativity, symbols, archetypes, instincts, love, and at times -- a need to wage war on behalf of our families -- runs through us all.

With respect and openness we can take inspiration from anywhere there are other human-beings . . . and especially from other mothers.