the first telling

The Woman With No Hair – ‘the first telling’
Excerpt from the first telling (watch full video below)

‘The Woman With No Hair’

by Maija Liepins

I found myself at the entrance to the crystal city in a place that’s neither here nor there…

There was a gate, at the entrance of the city which was made of a deep emerald green crystal the shape of a heart, and I put my hands against it and phased through like it was a portal – into the city: sparkling, with clear white crystal turrets and rooftops. I really felt quite uneasy, it was a strange environment. But I found myself drawn to an oblong pool. It was a large, shallow pool with a mosaic visible at the bottom through the clear water, and fountains with statues of women holding vessels, through which the water poured, splishing and splashing into the pool.

So I stepped into the pool, and quite quickly the city faded and was replaced by a dark, dark forest. Now I was standing in a natural pool in a shadowy forest and I breathed easier. At this point, I can’t quite remember what happened next, it all went dark, all black like the dark behind your eyelids, but I was much more comfortable, it was a sensation like falling asleep. When I woke up, the next thing I knew was I was walking up some wooden stairs in a tower in the crystal city. And at the very top of a tower I discovered a woman, alone in the wooden room. She was seated against the far wall and there was one window in this room. I was quite startled because I suddenly realised, looking at her shaven head that she had cut off her hair, and not just trimmed, really shaved it off. She was completely bald and the stubble was growing back slightly, and she had big bright blue eyes, a clear-eyed challenging stare. And here she was in this tower writing on parchment, long, long sheets of parchment which she would drape down out of the windows with her words on, and this was her only contact with the outside world these locks of paper. It wasn’t that she was unable to leave if she wanted to, I’d just come up some stairs! I approached her and she handed me a ghost shell, an ammonite spiral fossil.

Also on this visit to the city I found an old man in a simple grey waiting for me in a small room and seated on a narrow bed. He had been waiting for me a very long time that is why he was so old. Next to him, laid out on the bed was a white simple dress, so I put that on and let out my hair as I follow him to a little but very deep pond amidst some trees, with water lily’s growing in the shallow end. I dived into the fresh water and swam down, down, down until I got to a gateway, a doorway, an entrance. The ammonite spiral was the key that granted me passage through it. I went though, and I find I am floating on an invisible floor in the dark inside an egg. I climb out of the petal lined shell, breaking through the top of the egg like a bird, and clambering out into a familiar clearing. My breathing is ragged. I’m in a stone circle near the stone altar. Underneath is a big cavern where I had once been welcomed into a new chapter of my life. So I ran down through those halls and approached the door behind which I knew there was a beautiful bath set in black black rock and fed by a waterfall that made the rough black rock glisten, and beyond that a cavernous room lit by glowing embers in the wall and a big bed. But when I pushed open the door I got a shock because there was someone in the room. I felt the energy rather than seeing who was there. Red, forceful, wanting, desire-energy. Whoosh! Not expecting to find anyone else in this space which I considered to be mine, I fled immediately. I found myself in the dark a familiar place within worlds and I called for help, an exit. Down through the darkness came ribbons of yellow like tendrils of vine, like hair, like rope to lift me up. And I came back to here which is not the space that is neither here nor there, here where my name is Maija. And I wondered what I had been so afraid of and why Rapunzle had no hair.

This was a retelling of a dream, recorded in my dream journal on 4 February 2018

“The Heart wants what the Heart wants”



I desire, I dissent!

As a teen I internalised a culture of fear, the fear of my forefathers and mothers.

Fear of the power of a sexually awake woman.

Fear of judgement.

Fear of the physical power of men with closed hearts.

Fear of desire. Of wanting.

Fear of needing anything at all.

I internalised a culture that says desire is selfish, harmful to the “other”.

Dissenting thought: I am allowed to know what I want.

The Chrysalis

Chrysalis, (Day 3 in the dissent incubator)

DEFINITION of ‘Chrysalis
1. the hard outer case enclosing a chrysalis.
“the splitting of the chrysalis and the slow unfolding of the wings”
2. a transitional state

4. Share your mythology through symbolic art

Co-create with collective consciousness

All photographs by Susan Merrick

Published by Maija Liepins

Australian born, mixed-media artist, Maija Liepins focuses on the sensory and emotional experience in her visual dreamscapes. Repetitive actions such as dream journals or collecting visual impressions with her mobile phone generates material with which to reveal the subtle, ‘underneath’. Maija’s drawings and films allude to a symbolic mythology as if the intangible substance of dream is a material as real as ink and clay. Her practice is driven by a pursuit of freedom - to express, to create, and to collaborate without inculturated inhibition.

2 comments on “the first telling”

  1. I can really connect with you manifesto ideas Maija. A remaking, a restorying of your self and your place in the world.

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