I wasn't lying about that whole "put a bird on it" comment in my profile. I'm a sucker for things that are shaped like birds, are stamped with the likeness of a bird or are made with feathers. I am fond of owls and sparrows, I have a wicked tattoo idea for a quetzal that I plan on getting around to implementing soon, but my absolute favorite are peacocks. They are
majestic, all of those iridescent jewel tones melding together perfectly
to create one of the most visually stunning creatures on the planet.
Depending upon where you are in the world and what you believe, peacocks are a symbol of pride, immortality and respect. One of my favorite things about the peacock is that it eats poisonous snakes. I like the idea behind that, something pure and beautiful being able to devour something harmful without consequence.
When I was a little girl my mother's friend Shirley had peacocks on her farmstead, which was located a few miles out of town. Just far enough away that I could not SEE the peacocks whenever I wanted, but I could always HEAR them. I'm not sure if you have ever heard a peacock's cry, but a flock crying together sounds like children screaming. Not cool peacocks...not cool.
Anyway, whenever my mom would go out for coffee, I would come with so that I could run around the farm and collect as many peacock feathers as possible. Each time, Shirley let me keep one. I believe she sold the rest. I didn't realize at the time that I was being used for child labor, but I don't think it would have made any difference because my prize of one single feather would have still been worth the time I spent trompsing around. My collection of feathers lives in my boudoir in a vase, high in a corner, fanned out to perfection. When I take the time to stop and notice them, they still delight me as much as they did then.
Me, face painted with peacock goodness after attending a work party at Teatro ZinZanni. I think it was 2006 or 2007...sometime before I realized that Duck Face was not cool.
Depending upon where you are in the world and what you believe, peacocks are a symbol of pride, immortality and respect. One of my favorite things about the peacock is that it eats poisonous snakes. I like the idea behind that, something pure and beautiful being able to devour something harmful without consequence.
When I was a little girl my mother's friend Shirley had peacocks on her farmstead, which was located a few miles out of town. Just far enough away that I could not SEE the peacocks whenever I wanted, but I could always HEAR them. I'm not sure if you have ever heard a peacock's cry, but a flock crying together sounds like children screaming. Not cool peacocks...not cool.
Anyway, whenever my mom would go out for coffee, I would come with so that I could run around the farm and collect as many peacock feathers as possible. Each time, Shirley let me keep one. I believe she sold the rest. I didn't realize at the time that I was being used for child labor, but I don't think it would have made any difference because my prize of one single feather would have still been worth the time I spent trompsing around. My collection of feathers lives in my boudoir in a vase, high in a corner, fanned out to perfection. When I take the time to stop and notice them, they still delight me as much as they did then.
Me, face painted with peacock goodness after attending a work party at Teatro ZinZanni. I think it was 2006 or 2007...sometime before I realized that Duck Face was not cool.
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