Belly of The Beast #14-23
I followed Roberto to his bedroom where his life history was on the walls and dresser tops. He sat and let out a sigh. This was his inner shrine.. You first notice the pictures. In the corner a saint. Angel Gabriel for protection. In the mirror a metal a reflection of a metal object. It is his wife’s remains. Her ashes in an urn. She has been resting there by the time summer arrive for seven years.
I can’t imagine the inner turmoil, and torment what one must live out for the past sevens years in the middle of the night beneath the blank of sounds in the rain forest night after night. Yet, Roberto just sat there on the edge of the bed and smiled as he proudly pointed things out about his life and his departed wife.
His wife was loved within the community spread out within the sloping crevice of the mountain. Robert said." his wife collected a few dolls. Before I could think of the next question he said, they tried many times to have children”. Nothing worked for simple people in a simple region in an organic tropical rain forest filled with herds, incense,tree barks, flower peddles, and seeds and and or gas of fish and critters. This was his world, his belief system amended to Catholicism, I thought to myself.
There was a tremendous amount of information being said within this bedroom in an innocent tone. I had to move about just to allow my understanding of simple words rom sentences not bog me down with my comprehension from my own culture and visual symbolisms strewn about the room. Had it, I would be in my own real time conundrum.
The dolls seemed to be a key. A child plays with dolls, and imagines herself to be the mommy. From time to time the child takes a break from role playing and, openly wishes by says,’”One day I’ll be a mommy too", then prays in her way to God. In our culture one might noted the “God”, but here in costa Rica where Religion runs rampant it a strong possibility fora child. Lets face it. Santa and God for a child up to a certain age are real in the western civilization. As an adult this becomes more complex and primitive. Candles, Prayers, Saints, beads, lace dipped in holy water, with special asking for miracles. Maybe even a sacrifice. As an adult we know who Santa is and he has nothing to do with this story.
Roberto had a few isolation corals with a hoist and hook, and drain canal where one could sacrifice a sheep, goat, or something bigger. They where located to the west of the house. He asked me then if I wanted to take a look. I had passed on the offer. At the time I didn’t know the purpose of the freshly bright contrasted Red , Orange, and blue colors within the livestock dwelling attached to the west side of his dwelling.
fotovoltaik 18/03/2014 22:49
Wildness pure.LG Markus
Inez Correia Marques 18/03/2014 12:24
nteresting photo , it seems to come fron wiithin the mani like this glenn
Dagi.H. 18/03/2014 6:58
Dear Glenn, this is not really a lonely man your story touched me. He seems to be somehow happy in his world. In Germany we would say that he was a Messi who takes everything that has left another lie or what he sees somewhere and said he would need it - a garbage collector.He seems to be a person who has with his religion, no, his belief, found an inner peace.
His wife, whose ashes he kept in the bedroom, he must have loved. Seven years is a long time!
Your photo series tells a life story.
Sincerely Dagi
Tania Skaradek 18/03/2014 4:20
"The belly of the Beast" looks almost like the corner of my favorite flea market ... random things that once was loved by someone ...But urn with ashes in the bedroom ... the realities of life sometimes surpass the most exuberant fantasy!
How far the dolls led us!
Regards
Tania