They Wove Their Dreams with Threads of Gold

Sie Webten Ihre Träume Mit Goldfäden

Once upon a time a man left his home to find a new life. He traveled across the seas and arrived in the land of milk and honey. He married and had a family, great commercial success and won social standing. His progeny were all women and Threads Of Gold, is my interpretation of his journey and their transformations. 

This is a true story, in which any resemblance to the facts is coincidental, a true tale of our incessant and universal wanderings. This story follows the interminable process of immigration; arrival, exclusion/inclusion, the establishment of ties that bind through marriage, child bearing, work, property and the resulting benefits of class mobility and social integration.

Here in the Voelker-Orth home, the lineage of the ancient Norse Weisse Frauen or White Women - aka Wise Women, continued. Inside those hearts, sometimes unbeknownst to even themselves, these women who were named (among others); ancestor, grandmother, mother, wife, lover, daughter, sister, cousin, niece, friend and partner, brought their intuitive knowledge of the sacred myths of their homeland, with them to the new land.

'She' is adorned in the purity of white, the color of death and resurrection, a symbol of the cycle of descent and return. ‘She’ is mother of mothers, child woman, property of love, servant to tradition, family and culture. Simultaneously welcoming the joys and perils of possibility and experimentation, ‘She’, the wilder child as she enters into a transformative state, serving as sister, guide, adversary and equal. Perpetually seeking. Redefining identity. Knowing the unknown.

Throughout this story reverberates the constancy of place, of address, of site; this factory of love known as 'Home'. It is here that we bear the weight of lineage, where expectation and potential battle, where we dream and practice our privately public metamorphosis. Home is our safe haven for disappointment, escape, discovery and secrets. A place to be nurtured that nurtures, a place to be preserved that strengthens, a place to come back to and to leave from, a place to honor as the nucleus of the laboratory love.

Here, my part in the story ends, except to affirm that they all lived, as happily ever after as was possible.