|Jan Crouch, the Mutha of all Mothers|
Looking at this woman, I was reminded of the new Charles James exhibit at the Costume Institute at the Met. I should refer to it as the Anna Wintour Institution at the Met but I still am having trouble wrapping my mind around that. Still the grandiose gowns by James that were in his words more about negative space, sculpting the air around the clothes dovetails so nicely when you consider not just the hair on her head but also her eyes, lips and hands. Look closely. She is a marvel of creation. Isn't that what Mothers are? They are not like you or me. They carry us and give birth to us then continue to love, nurture and look out for us until their last breath. They instill in us values and the tools we need to go forth and flourish. And if we don't go forth they're there to welcome us back, the conquered, the fallen, but heroes in their eyes.
This outlandish creature, the Mutha of all Mothers, is a delicious amalgam that perfectly symbolizes what a Mother means: Her eyes are all seeing, the hair is a metaphor for all knowing, her hands show the endless hours of soothing caresses and battles waged and those full lips speak truths only a mother can know. Nothing means more to her than our happiness and well being. So let's celebrate our Mothers today and everyday. It's the least we can do for the one person in our lives who will do anything for us simply because their love knows no bounds.