Rose Red

Red roses outside kitchen window at Tanglewood,

early summer.

In the tale of Snow White and Rose Red, I am decidedly Rose Red- for the most part.  The basic story is this:  Once upon a time there were two sisters, Snow White and Rose Red, who lived with their Mother in a cottage in the woods.  The sisters loved each other dearly~ Snow White loved the arts of the hearth and the garden.  Rose Red loved the wildwood, learning the names of the plants and the languages of the creatures.  One winter night a large bear came to the door of the cottage- at first frightened, the sisters listened while the bear explained that it was just looking for warmpth and shelter during the long winter.  They gave it entry, and it settled by the fire the whole winter through.  In the Spring, however, the bear stirred and went off to gaurd his treasure, leaving the sisters behind.   The sisters too ventured into the woods, exploring the world as it awakened again.  On their travels they often encountered a dwarf- not the jolly kind of dwarf, but the lean and cranky kind, obsessed with treasures of the earth.  The dwarf was often in difficulty due to his long beard (which was constantly getting stuck in things) and his unwillingness to set down his treasures long enough to get himself unstuck.  But because the sisters were compassionate as well as practical-sensible, they came to his rescue clipping the beard loose with their scissors.  Then one day, when the dwarf was stuck yet again, the bear appeared.  The dwarf went into a frenzy, trying frantically to convince the bear to eat the sisters instead of him.  The bear, of course, recognized the dwarf as the treasure-thief and whapped him upside the head, killing him quite dead.  Spells were broken, the bear transformed into a prince, and married Snow White.  Sometimes Rose Red gets to marry his brother, sometimes she stays in the cottage in the wood, sometimes she just hangs out forever with random bears.

I am Rose Red, not only because I am red, but because I love the wild wood, the creatures and the plants and knowing the names of everything.  I love to create and collect, and could care less if the yarden is a tangle- thus the final name of our cottage: 'Tanglewood'.  While I do have some domestic capability- I clean, and do laundry when the mood takes me, cooking is the domain of the manz, and I'm not the best housekeeper in the world.  I get distracted by thinking, then I go off to make something, explore something, do something.  Likewise, unlike Snow White, I am not a natural hostess~ despite a stint in "White Gloves and Party Manners" I am often rather awkward socially~ I have to be *doing* something rather than conversation.  I never know where to look otherwise, and am just able to barely manage small talk...but if I am occupied with sketching or embroidery (which is sketching with a needle), I can listen and speak easier and with greater depth.  It frees me somehow.  

My best friend, Melissa, is Snow White.  She is master of cooking and sewing, and can converse naturally and freely with anyone.  She knows the garden, the secrets of the bees and is blessed with magical tomatoes. The language of spices and smells, tastes and the subtle differences in honey~ how to construct a garment from bits of leftover fabric and well-loved clothing.  How to spin and twist yarns together into long bright scarves, how to make monsters and magic from scraps.  The arts of the hearth are hers.

We follow our own archetypes (I've been thinking of archetypes allot lately), and find ourselves in the old stories.  Our questions, our mirror selves- I am not cut out for the roles of traditional fairy-tale princesses, or even Red Riding Hood.  (As Rose Red I would befriend the wolf, even if I came to harm).  I am not the character that ends up with the Prince and the Castle (btw: the other night I had a dream that Barbie was married to Bill Gates.  They lived in the Castle entry to Storybook Forrest in Pa.)  I am the character that stays in the wood, that evolves into what Campbell calls the 'magical helper'- the one who aids the hero towards their goal.  A different kind of mystery.