Guess What?

I needed a wee rest after my epically lengthy 40^th birthday and blogging marathon! I’m back now and ready to talk about the “project for next year” you might remember me mentioning: the above was taken on October 3^rd, twelve days into the “40 Days of Birthday” celebration. Fortunately for me, I was spared the knowledge of pregnancy on my actual birthday, allowing me champagne. I’m aware that some mamas choose not to indulge anywhere near even the possibility of conception, but I prefer to plead unawares.

The truth is, I was aware very early this time. Not enough to be extra cautious on my birthday, but later that week I started to experience strange symptoms, the kind I’d only experienced much later in pregnancy with Lennon. On the way home from the Lady Castle, after carrying a heavy-ish bag, my fingers tingled ala Carpel Tunnel Syndrome, which I suffered from last time only during my third trimester. I also had strange gum tenderness on the day we first tried to go to the TV Tower. I realize these could be related to any number of things besides pregnancy, but my uncanny intuition told me otherwise. Right around this time the nausea also started in, something that didn’t occur until a good six weeks into my last pregnancy. I decided to take a pregnancy test the day before my missed period (sorry, Gents, if talk of such things causes you the same queasiness I’m experiencing) because I just “felt” so pregnant.

The fancy Clear Blue Easy Digital test I took—the same I used to test with Lennon, incidentally—not only literally spells out pregnant (in German) it tells you how many weeks into your pregnancy you are. The day before my missed period, the test read “2-3" weeks. This is where the confusing math comes in: the test instructions state that 2-3 weeks will translate to 5-6 weeks at your doctor’s office: Doctors will count from the first day of your last period and the test counts from two weeks after the point, when you are likely ovulating. Of course this is all mute if you know the exact date of conception. We did not. We knew what the successful course of action was when trying to get pregnant and chose not to hedge our bets. We were sure to make everyday in the month of September a possible day of conception.

With such a strong presence of hormone the day before my missed period and such early symptoms, I was pretty certain this was some powerful pregnancy. I even suspected for one frightening moment that it might be twins, throwing a wrench in our “family of four” plan. I’ve since had it confirmed several times that it is only one, very hormonal baby.

By the way, for those keeping score at home, if at any point on or after October 3^rd you witnessed me on my blog with what appears to be an alcohol beverage, let me assure you it is the alcohol-free variety. Lucky for me, Germany makes delicious alcohol-free beer! I practically lived on the stuff when I was nursing. It was fun to enjoy them in those first few weeks during this pregnancy as well, but once my nausea peaked, I couldn’t look at anything resembling beer—or squash, or tomato sauce, or bread, or nuts of any kind, just to name a few provocative aversions. Fruit and Asian noodles have been my go-tos this time around.

Lennon’s sibling should be arriving around June-ish. I’m not going to talk about specific dates since, in my experience, they mean nothing anyway. If I haven’t made it clear already, we’re very excited. Truly, I can hardly believe how incredibly blessed I am.

Post Script—Forty blogs entries for forty weeks of pregnancy? I’m already a little behind, but I’ll try to keep you informed in case of anything juicy. Also, "Gender Reveal" coming soon!

40 Days of Birthday: Day Forty {End of Days}

My 40^th Birth-Day came and went and instead of writing about it, I took a day off. I hope the suspense hasn’t been too great. The day began with taking my son to Kita. The day before, I had asked if there would be any sort of Halloween festivities, but beyond having a Jack-o-Lantern in the lobby, the answer was no. It’s still catching on here, as you may have read. When we arrived, however, there was one child who’d come in a half-baked Darth Vader costume. I say half-baked because he was missing his mask, the ultimate accessory for any Vader. Nonetheless, this made me wish I had put Lennon in his Beagle costume for the day. Discussing it with Nicholas later, it was determined that we did the right thing by bringing him sans costume: The Beagle costume is still a little big on Lennon and it might have been annoying for all parties to have him tripping on it all day. In addition, it had already gotten some good play this costume season. I reminded myself that there is always Fasching in February—his bigger fitting Beagle costume should still be in working order then as well.

I received a couple of last minute birthday gifts on my final Birth-Day: Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep the night before from Lennon, and in my mailbox when I came home from Kita drop off, a lovely bracelet from my sister-in-law, Kim.

A couple of weeks ago, I received a large package from my sister, Erin, stuffed with fun bath toys for Lennon and a birthday gift for me: Artisan wool felted cuffs handmade in Northern California. I wanted to wait until my last Birth-Day to show them off—giving them their proper due. So pretty.

I did some gifting myself, this being a holiday beyond just Birth-Day Forty. I made some extra banana sweetened “acorn” muffins for our upstairs neighbors, the family that includes Lennon’s buddy Otis. I reckoned since the boys are too young to go out for Trick-or-Treating—or eating candy—they could enjoy a healthy “treat” at home. Lennon would have his “acorn” muffins with cream cheese for breakfast the rest of the week. Incidentally, the muffin recipe is the same one I used for his birthday cake. No sugar but lots of love.

When I retrieved Lennon from Kita, his teachers informed me that Lennon had walked from the playroom to the bathroom all by himself. When we got home, I tried to recreate what had happened at Kita: he walks! He walked all the way down our hallway. Then he walked across the living room. I tried to film, but realized this was a two person job so waited until Nicholas got home. It was literally overnight that he went from taking just a few steps beyond our arms to truly walking on his own!

After filming the boy and his new amazing feat (or is it amazing “feet?”), I put him into the tiger costume that I had worn on Halloween when I was his age. I talk more about it here. As always, our photo shoot did not go as planned. Our independent little boy isn’t interested is posing—certainly not when there is walking to be done. Miraculously, we captured some shots of him that mirrored the ones of me wearing the costume—completely by accident. Finally, Lennon was happy to be freed from the acrylic confines of the 1970s baby romper and into his own cotton pajamas.

The main activity for my Halloween Birth-Day was to do a Native American-esque smudging ceremony of our apartment. Truth be told, I had meant to do this directly after we moved in, but there was still so much commotion, it just never seemed the right time. On this last Birth-Day, as I put my transition into this new decade behind me, it felt right to cleanse. I had purchased the sage smudge stick in Half Moon Bay, California this past summer. I love that it wrapped wrapped in a pretty orange, cotton twine. After the smudge was lit, I started clockwise from our front door and visited every room, letting the smoke waft throughout. Many people had lived here temporarily in the months leading up to our moving in and the place needed a clearing out. In addition, whatever stress or fears we brought with us regarding the move or the financial jump we’d made to the larger apartment could stand a cleansing as well. With all my esoteric good intentions, the first change I noticed after I smudged was that my cold-turned-sinus-infection seemed much worse. Even the gentle, aromatic smoke from the smudge was irritating. Small price to pay, I suppose, for clean house.

Later that evening, unexpectedly, a small group of Trick-or-Treaters rang our bell. We hadn’t purchased any candy, not having had any visitors on Halloween for a couple of years. We buzzed them in thinking they’d go to someone else's door in the building. When they knocked on ours, Nicholas was standing, frozen, by the knob, signaling to me not to make a sound. One Halloween, before I moved to Germany, Trick-or-Treaters knocked on Nicholas’s door and he was mortified to not have anything for them. I assured him it would be all right and grabbed my bowl of acorn muffins—at least we could offer those. At the door was a group of four twelve year olds dressed in classic witch and goblin attire. Nicholas explained, rather defeated, that we did not have any candy but asked would they like a homemade muffin, baked fresh today. Three of the kids took a muffin. The other, perhaps, had been warned by her parents not to take any homemade treats. In general, that’s probably a good rule.

Nicholas then ran out to a convenience store to grab a bag of candy. I put the contents in a bowl by the door, proper Halloween style. Luckily, we did get one more small group of Trick-or-Treaters who were thrilled by our selection: Haribo Maoam.

Side Note: On the way home from the store with the candy, Nicholas informed me that one of my muffins had been found half eaten on a window ledge in our building and another was perched on the pumpkin outside our door. I really can’t blame those twelve year olds. How can banana possible stand up to all that delicious sugar?

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Nine

Just one day till the end of days—Birth-Days, that is! I’ve been given a reprieve from being inventive lately as pre-scheduled events, meetings, and holidays provide me with my extraordinary activities. Today is no exception. It is the day before Halloween and our pumpkins were carved.

Lennon isn’t so skilled with a knife yet, so all the actual carving was left to my husband and I. Lennon is also not fond of gooey stuff—he got very upset at Kita when, on the first day, they tried to have him create a print by dipping his hand in paint. He stood as an observer today as we cleaned and cut.

 We began carving in the late afternoon, when my husband got home from work. We borrowed a day old newspaper from our neighbors to use as a surface for the messy pumpkin massacre and were happy to see that is was printed with pigment-based inks, the kind that come off on everything they touch. All of the big papers in the U.S. no longer use this type of ink. Though we had smudge marks on our table, we were happy to know that we could grab a German paper and a spray bottle of vinegar any old time for spotlessly clean, streak-free windows.

Lennon did have a snack at the beginning of the carving and his dinner toward the end, but still was excited to nibble on the cut-out top of his miniature pumpkin. His little pumpkin had been in his room for a few weeks now. When Nicholas put Lennon to bed, they said goodnight to pumpkin. Today, Lennon got to see what we do with pumpkins around these parts.

Nicholas did most of the pumpkin cleaning and sorting of the seeds for roasting. I was in charge of the carving. This is definitely not my medium. I experimented with one of the pumpkins, trying to create the San Francisco Giants logo, but miscalculated my lines and ended needing assist from a toothpick. To my eye, it turned out far better than I imagined but is still sad looking. Lennon’s little pumpkin and our bigger pumpkin faired better with classic Halloween faces.

It was our intent to watch the 1966 classic, “It’s the GreatPumpkin, Charlie Brown” while we carved but the iTunes store let us know that it would be thirteen hours before the movie would be fully downloaded. Luckily, our internet troubles are being dealt with tomorrow, but for today, Lennon friendly music would accompany our festivities.

We lit the pumpkins, turned off the lights, and all gazed at what we’d made. It was time for Lennon to go to bed and for the first time when I went to pick him up, he pulled away, not ready to say goodnight. I did this the same thing all the time as a child. So did Nicholas. We just wanted to stay up and have fun—not miss anything. It seems that neither does our little boy.

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Eight

I had a very exciting meeting today about a project for next year here in Berlin. This meeting has been on the books for a few weeks and I was hoping to share more about it since it is my official Birth-Day activity for today—but I can’t. There are just too many details that need to be sorted before I can spill the beans, and before I can truly call it officially in the works. I’m looking forward to telling you more about it in the coming months.

Something unexpected happened today, before my exciting secret meeting. Lennon has a small plush fox that he carries with him nearly everywhere. Fox is an inexpensive toy that we bought at IKEA in the late spring. Lennon became attached to fox for a couple of reasons. When we travelled to the U.S. this past summer, we took a collection of toys with us that were small enough to be portable and inexpensive enough to not make us sad should they get damaged or lost in travel. His little fox was included. At the time of our vacation, Lennon wasn’t particularly attached to any one toy so we could make these kinds of decisions, but having spent a month with these toys only, they became mainstays. Additionally, Lennon loves toys with tails or dangly parts that he can hold in his hand and flip around. This is a habit we discovered on vacation, perhaps because fox was there with his perfect, toddler hand-sized tail.

When he started Kita this fall, we thought fox would be a perfect companion as they asked we bring our child’s favorite “Kuscheltier” with him every day. Though Lennon doesn’t get upset when fox is not around and is happy to play with other toys or even swing other plush animals by the tail, fox had been a consistent companion throughout the summer and, again, wouldn’t be such a financial loss should something happen to him.

As we came from Kita today, I handed Lennon fox whom he grabbed tightly by the tail. On the way home, I always glance down to make sure fox is still with him in the stroller. Luckily, he always is. We stopped into a few stores before heading home. As I was lifting Lennon out of the stroller, I noticed fox was missing. I checked everywhere on my person and in our bags but fox had been…dropped. I really couldn’t remember the last time I glanced down to make sure fox was there. Was it before we got on the train? After the store? Fox could be anywhere. Fox was lost. I did the first thing I always do in any crisis: call my husband. We both decided that it probably wasn’t advantageous for us to retrace all of our steps, having no idea where he could be. Luckily, IKEA still sold the exact same fox and Nicholas would make a run tonight to get another one.

We’d always said that if fox got lost, we’d move on and not replace him. Our adaptable Lennon would find another toy to be his companion. Actually faced with the real life scenario, however, we needed a new fox. He’d become such a celebrity amongst our friends and at Kita: Lennon and his fox. As I waited for Nicholas to come home, I became sad about losing that particular fox. Yes, he could be replaced, but I imagined mending fox when he ripped a seam and letting him take on that wonderful child-loved patina. That fox had been washed so many times its fur was a little matted and dingy. The new fox would be all different and that made me melancholy.

Nicholas walked through the door and asked if I’d received his message. He was on his way home and wanted to know what side of the street we’d walked on, just in case he’d happen to spot fox. Disappointed that I’d not gotten his message, I apologized. Just then, out of his pocket he pulled fox---the original, lost-now-found fox! Nicholas had seen fox on one of the outside tables at Rogaki, just down the street. Some kind soul likely found him on the street and placed him there, clearly seeing how beloved he was. Happy day! Lennon saw fox sitting on his Tripp Trapp chair where Nicholas had placed him, smiled, and went to him. Then fox made a straight line for the washing machine. He’d be clean and dry in time for Kita in the morning. 

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Seven

We’ve had today’s activity on our calendar for months: The Botanic Garden Halloween Fun Fest! We attempted to go to this same event last year. It was one of the first times Lennon used his baby buggy. He was so displeased with it, however, we put him in the baby carrier half way enroute. With an empty carriage and a baby on my chest, Nicholas, Lennon, and I waited in line for an hour to enter the festival. We had no idea Halloween would have such interest in Berlin. We did arrive late in the day and when our friends called to woo us to dinner we aborted our mission.

Before we got going today, my husband and I went through our weekend trade-off schedule: I get up with Lennon early, around 6am, while Nicholas sleeps. At around 8pm, I get to go back to bed for an hour or so. When I awoke this morning from my sleep-in time, Lennon and Nicholas had made me breakfast in bed for Birth-Day Thirty-Seven! So very lovely.

 We came to realize late that it was day light savings time, so even though we had a leisurely morning, that extra hour still allowed us to arrive early to the Fest—minutes after opening. There was no line and we sauntered right in. The admission cost was the regular Botanical Gardens entrance fee, and of course I received my student discount. It was brisk today so perhaps that’s what kept people away. Or maybe coming early was key. In any case, it remained uncrowded.

The opening of the festival coincided with Lennon’s naptime. Lennon was cozy bundled in his “Fuß Sack” inside his stroller and, as he knows to do at 11:30, went right to sleep. Sleepy Lennon had a jack-o-lantern balloon tied to his stroller upon arrival. We first made our way to the pumpkin carving station. We reckoned most of the activities were for older kids but we thought maybe we’d get a good photo-op in for Lennon—he wore his “Jenks the Beagle” costume out today! The pumpkins were 5 euro and you paid an additional 5 euro deposit on the carving kit. We’d be carving the pumpkin we bought at the Hofladen Falkensee the night before Halloween, but it was sweet to see what the future would hold when Lennon is a bit older.

After picking up a 1 euro candied apple that, despite my husband’s reservations, was completely delicious, we headed indoors. A ghostly puppet show was to be performed in one hall but our timing was off so we headed to the “Neues Glashaus” where more of the program was taking place. It was lovely and warm inside. Nicholas and sleeping Lennon stayed on the stroller friendly first level where chairs and tables were set while I ventured upstairs to snap some photos. On the next level up, there was a “Halloween Café” selling snack bar food. Next to it, a child’s birthday party was underway with a long table and decorations. I’m not certain how they pulled this one off, but it was such a brilliant coup: have your child’s birthday party at a festival with face painting, crafts, and costumes! It made me wonder why more people didn’t think of this. How did they secure that lovely spot next to the café? Can anyone book this for a birthday? It was all too mind-boggling.

On the upper level, there were several booths selling Halloween items. Nothing extraordinary, at least not by U.S. Halloween standards, but these items were fairly exotic here. It was all typical drug store merchandise: Halloween paper plates and cups, plastic witch hats and prefab costumes. Most children came in costume to the festival today but didn’t stray from the classics: witches, ghosts, and goblins. There weren’t even any fairy princesses. Halloween is new enough to Germany that all the original rules still seem to apply.

Beyond the Halloween items, a face-painting table was teeming with children and several craft tables were set with materials. Kids were painting ceramic birds. I wasn’t sure what this activity had to do with Halloween, but none of the children seemed to object.

We continued to walk the grounds when Lennon woke up hungry and thirsty. After a quick snack we headed home, all before the clock struck 1pm and we turned into pumpkins.

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Six

Nicholas had an open house at his school and we’d miss seeing him for most of today. My plan was to have a Mama and Lennon adventure: we would visit a local playground and then hit up a second hand children’s clothing store. I’m looking for a snowsuit and a play kitchen for him for Christmas. More days than not, when I collect him from Kita, he’s at the play kitchen there, opening doors, putting blocks in the sink and taking them out again.

Lucky for us, just as we were about to leave, Kelly from upstairs invited us to go to the playground with her and Otis. I told her of our scheme with the second hand shop. She added the idea of a cup of coffee and we had a plan. At the playground, Lennon and Otis crawled all over—through the sand, into the little houses. The dangerous looking boulders jutting out through the landscape were most interesting to Lennon. We tried the swing again—last time he was overtired and didn’t dig it. He enjoyed it enough today but wanted to take more control over the actual swinging part, which the baby swing isn’t really designed for. His back and forth motion made the swing jerk in a way that scared me it’d tip over. He didn’t protest when I pulled him out.

We stopped into the second hand children’s shop. They had a sweet red and white wood play kitchen in the window and I rushed in to ask the price. Before giving me my answer, the shop owner explained how it had been hand built and painted by an “old man”—130 euro, she said. It was cute, but I’d seen the best of them new for less than that. I began to look at the winter wear section and noticed the used baby coats were running around 60 euro. The shop did claim to have designer wear and I’m not unwilling to pay for quality, but when it comes to second hand items, I want a bargain. Kelly had the same reaction. We all turned our buggies around and headed for the coffee house.

With our drinks to go, I stopped by the Turkish store with Kelly so she could get a Halloween pumpkin for carving. Her husband, Aaron, had just phoned and was going to swing by where we were to pick up Kelly’s house keys—he had been out and about and had forgotten his. When she came out with the pumpkin, Aaron was waiting in his car across the street. I waited with the boys while she went to make the handover. Wilmersdorfer is a busy street, but pedestrian heavy and cramped. I’ve crossed this street in this exact spot many times without any issue. But after the handover, just as Kelly turned around to head back to where we were standing, a speeding Mercedes sedan came barreling down the street. It didn’t appear that Kelly noticed it coming. It was going way too fast for this section of the street and for there being a stopped car, as well. I yelled out, “Kelly, wait!” At that instant, she stopped in her tracks and the speeding car came to a screeching halt, within inches of my friend. The driver seemed annoyed, Kelly was embarrassed, and I think Aaron saw his life flash before him.

As Kelly and I walked back to our building, we were both shaken but slowly moved on to other topics of conversation, letting go of what had just happened. When Nicholas got home, the weather turned for the worse. I had thought that I’d maybe go out for a solo shopping trip this evening, but decided staying in, cuddling with my family, would be the best way to treat myself.

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Five {Looks Like We Made It: Schneidersitz Sewing Store}

I have received a commission to make one of my birthday crowns! I’ve made several beyond the ones you’ve seen on Lennon or myself, but these are usually paper based and thrown together in a hurry a few hours before the birthday celebration. Like the paper crowns, this request is for a grown-up but something more permanent is wanted. I plan on using new and vintage material already in my inventory but I have a special vision in mind so need some additional trimmings.

Today I headed to a tiny sewing store that I discovered with Lennon when we first moved into this neighborhood. Lennon and I went for an epic walk one day, got lost and found ourselves in front for Schneidersitz. It was closed—it being Sunday—but I’ve wanted an excuse to go back during business hours ever since. They have a sweet little website that provides just the essential information plus a few pictures of what they have in stock. Since we’d gotten lost finding it last time, I mapped it out for us before heading there today.

With a meeting at 6pm, we were a bit rushed in going to Schneidersitz. With Lennon staying home from Kita, still under the weather, and nap schedules, we left later in the day than I’d planned. Schneidersitz is small and I knew that if I’d kept my wits about me I could get out of there in a half an hour. I made a quick run to the bank—often little shops are cash only or have a minimum to use your bank card—and we were off. Our map said it would take us seventeen minutes to get there and as we saw the shop from across the street, I glanced at my iphone. Much to my delight, we’d gotten there in record time. Also, with all my rushing to get us out of the house, I somehow had added another hour. It was only 4pm, not 5pm as I’d thought! We’d have a luxurious amount of time at Schneidersitz.

Lennon was in good spirits as well and seemed happy to be out of the house. We were the only people in the tiny shop and I was able to park Lennon’s stroller just inside and navigate the trimmings while he babbled away. The woman behind the counter was stoic but began to warm when I actually had her cut some goods, a clear sign I was going to buy. I did make her do a little work as I couldn’t decide on a particular trim and she had to get several down and return several others. After the cuttings were made I did a little more browsing. The counter lady gave Lennon a colorful card to entertain him. He was delighted. I paid for my items, including a little grab bag of discontinued trim for just 3 euro, and was pleasantly surprised by the prices.

Before I left, I mentioned to the counter lady—all in German—that I have a sewing blog and asked if she minded if I took some photos. She probably wondered what I was going to do with the giant SLR camera around my neck. She graciously obliged.

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Four

When performance is really moving, I struggle to find the words to write about it. It can have such a personal resonance with me and touch me in such a way that defining it on paper narrows its impact somehow. Unfortunately, in choosing to get a PhD in Performance Studies, I’ve agreed to do nothing but write about performance. Tonight I saw another work as part of the Foreign Affairs festival sponsored by the Berliner Festspiele. This piece was by Italian Director Romeo Castelucci and is called "The Four Season’s Restaurant." I’m providing below the artist's description as presented by the Berliner Festspiele not as an alternative for me discussing the performance myself, but because I’d rather spend time articulating my experience, however inarticulate it may end up being:

“It all starts with the desire to say no: when American artist Mark Rothko had completed a cycle of paintings for the Four Seasons Restaurant in New York, he decided to refuse their exhibition after a personal crisis. He saw this restaurant’s commitment as the epitome of a new bulimia of images. Nowadays, this cycle of monumental canvases forms the nucleus of the cathedralesque Tate Modern Gallery in London.

The Four Seasons Restaurant is a reference to Rothko’s late masterpiece: the audience is confronted by a gigantic black rectangle that hides the entire stage, accompanied by ear-splitting music and fragmentary texts – an overwhelming technical arrangement that overpowers the senses. Mass, adoration, idolatry figure alongside fundamental concepts of religion, philosophy and nihilism in director Castellucci’s work, who started out as a visual artist.

The Four Seasons Restaurant is part of a cycle including Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story The Minister’s Black Veilabout Reverend Hooper, whose decision to always appear in a black veil was based on a similar act of refusal. Castellucci’s production On the Concept of Face Regarding the Son of God, which also belongs to The Minister’s Black Veil cycle along withThe Four Seasons Restaurant, raises similar questions about hunger, desire and torture in the face of a superior image.”

The piece was in Italian with German subtitles. I was able to gather only a little of what the German was relaying. We were advised to take the free earplugs handed out before the show. It would be loud, they said. The “overture” was a sonic blast of tones from a black hole, as recorded by NASA. Titles on a screen in front of the stage explained what we were listening to. When the curtain rose, one by one, young women entered the stage, each dressed in North American Amish fashioned “plain dress” skirts and pinafores. Each grabbed a pair of scissors, cut off the tips of their tongues, and mopped the blood from their mouths with a handkerchief. What followed was the telling of an epic tale, the plot of which I only gathered in pieces. The story was told with grand, theatrical, melodramatic gestures and called to mind a medieval Passion Play. Beyond text, much of the story was told in imagistic movement sequences: at the conclusion of the story, the women formed a clump and writhed together until, one by one, each women was “born” from the group. Once a woman fell from the group as a “new born” the others stripped her naked, embraced her, and sent her off the stage to someplace else. Once all of the women were born this way, the epilogue began:

The blank white stage the woman had been on disappeared behind black curtains. With the music from the black hole and the rhythmic veiling of the white, watching the stage being engulfed put me in a trance. The downstage curtain slowly dragged upstage toward the back revealing a dead horse, laying on its side. No sooner had the horse been revealed but the curtain dragged forward to cover it again. The sounds from the black hole continued to play. The curtain lifted to a wall of gushing water in a tank but soon discovered to be a deluge of small black particles being blown wildly about. After several minutes I noticed a woman sitting in the midst of it all, waving a flag. As the particles began to rest and become still, the face of a woman, as large as the stage could be seen. She was Mother Mary drawn on the back wall. Just then, the naked young women came onto the stage and rushed toward the mother, reaching for her mouth as she looked down to them.

Weeping beauty, truly gorgeous. 

Photo source for horse image and last image found here. 

Photo source for "birthing" image found here.