I have a passion for images of the Virgin Mary, with and without the Christ child. I am sure it has much to do with the untold hours I spent on my knees praying to various statues of her when I was a child. Of course my prayers were fervent, but I also spent a lot of time studying her garments, the way she held herself, carried her arms, the expressions on her face.
This sweet garden statue stands behind a rather ordinary working class house on Staten Island, in New York – at least she did when I was there last, in March of 2009. It’s one of my favourite places to go on a “Mary hunt.” The day was cold, a brutal wind, but I was with a willing friend who undoubtedly thought the whole thing was absurd – but we had fun and Mary was pleased to pose for fans.
Beloved Mary…full of Grace. What a story one could write about the reason for that shrine. My mind goes wild. I hope I’m not heading towards writing fiction! It’s never been my desire. I just like reading it – or letting stories arise.
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I have been tempted so many times to let my mind run free on the Mary theme, do exactly what you describe. I am not sure if I consider her slightly taboo or am I slightly afraid of offending people… I know I’ve got at least one more novel in me – getting it out just is harder than the others…
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