The Naked Hero and the Red Stones

Stones Sliced 15 May 2015I’ve been writing about stones in recent blogs. Stones I’ve found on my new allotment plot, that, while uniformly black (more or less) on the outside, those I found split in two, revealed a wonderful interior uniqueness, like these in the picture to the left.

While musing over possible significances, an artist whose blog I’ve been following for a short while coincidentally (ha!) wrote about stones and, like a shoal of stones falling, I was reminded of something I found myself writing out-of-the-blue, way back in 2002-2003.

I was writing text for my first web site. I found myself writing about a being who, in deep winter, had fallen to earth. A child, in my mind’s eye I saw him lying in undergrowth, naked, curled in sleep.  He would perish, surely?

The next time I saw him in my mind’s eye he was a boy of about seven or eight. It was summer. He was foraging in the depths of a forest. He was naked but for a peculiar cloak. It was knotted at the neck, open at the front, exposing his wiry boy’s body and it dangled to his knees.

It was of every nature of material – bits of cloth of all kinds, plastics, rope natural and synthetic, twigs, grass stems, leaves, bits of birds’ nests, wire, fishing line, paper, card. It was woven, knotted, bound, patched and in parts, it was impossible to say how it was held together at all. It could be of little use as a covering, in winter, none at all against the crueller elements.

The story goes on – because I followed the boy till his adulthood – but I don’t want to reveal more now, except to say that  it became clear to me that the boy had learnt that you took what you found on your daily walk through life and made it useful in some way.

This is what my artist friend was doing. In her art is the everyday and her reflections upon it. And this is what I was to do with my stones.

I thought of my boy and his cloak. What would he have done with the stones? How would he have made use of them? And I thought how he might have heated them up and used them to keep himself warm. He might have added a pocket to his cloak and placed hot stones in them to keep himself warm overnight.

Red Stones May 2015So I heated-up my stones (via Photoshop). And I’ll make a pocket for them in my cloak of stories. My stones are metaphysical, you see. So is my boy, my Naked Hero.

He is me, you see, and also thee and thee.

What stones have you found on your walk today?


About AnnIsikArts

Artist/Writer/Chess Enthusiast/Musician (Singer)/Gardener
This entry was posted in Art, Folklore & Mythology, Short Story Writing, spirituality, Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The Naked Hero and the Red Stones

  1. Bumba says:

    I always pick up interesting rocks, but I never thought of them as metaphors, only nice rocks.


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