Mistakes in divining by the milfoil sticks;
The tortoise is property emerging from dry mud.
Bob set up the cam corder and we began to improvise. I found an unusually shaped piece of bark and pushed it into a deer track in the soft wet sand. I took a few photos of this and we continued to move and make sounds. I raked finger marks in the wet sand with 3 fingers of each of my hands etching a vaginal shape. I heaped and patted what was dug up into a small mound at the bottom of the shape. Then I gathered pieces of the dead bark and formed a kind of fence around the vagina.
The mound of sand is surrounded by bright golden leaves found at the site. Three small pieces of bark emerge from the mound. The sides of the "fence" are formed with curved pieces of bark. The top cross-piece and the part sticking out from it are straighter pieces. The bright leaves are the only color in this gray monotone installation.
As I was finishing the installation, Bob took off his clothes and lay along one curve of the vagina. Then I took off my clothes and lay along the other side. Our faces were close so we kissed. We lay there kissing until we stood up fondling each other which led to subtly beautiful, yet intense, love-making.
Then, flies began attacking me (am I a magnet?!) and I started panicking and wanted to leave. I had to photograph my lovely installation, but as I was doing it, I started feeling shaky from low blood-sugar. I was barely able to finish the documentation and get dressed. We got back to the bus and I ate some Ritz crackers and P.B. which saved my life. We drove into Scottsbluff for provisions and a Taco Bell fix. We came back to camp, took showers, had sex, ate dinner, and now we're writing.
I'm a little dazzled by each new day's experience. I started out this morning feeling awkward and homely, but then I stepped out of the bus and, as each of the day's events unfolded, I have felt more and more beautiful, natural, and relaxed. Bob is such a perfect mate and teacher for me. Maybe this life-time is one where I learn self-acceptance from a sage who has experienced many more life-times than I . . .