Bella Serpente

Wakkerstroom Old Bioscope: Photograph by Owen Castleman

Cet animal est tres mechant; Quand on l'attaque il se defend.

(This animal is very malicious; when attacked it defends itself.)

                                                - La Menagerie (Traditional French song)

~ o ~

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

                                             - Rainer Maria Rilke

~ o ~

When we can see the image of God where we don’t want to see the image of God, then we see with eyes not our own.

                                                                - Richard Rohr

~ o ~

Wakkerstroom Music Festival 2017 is something of the past. For about 4 days opera arias, cello, piano, violin, flute, jazz and French horn could be heard from any suitable facility in this otherwise quiet little town. We did our utmost to welcome our guests - performers and visitors - from far and wide and make them feel at home.

We as local visual artists were fortunate to exhibit in some of the lovely old buildings in town as well. Matilda and I were in the old bioscope that’s in the process of beautifully being restored by Ina and Ian McDonald. There is still work to be done but we could not have asked for a more suitable space than this room next to the one that the Wakkerstroom Information Centre uses.

Picture of our exhibition, taken by Matilda Angus

It was on the afternoon of day two of our exhibition with everything set up to our liking and us sitting relaxed behind our “reception counter” that Matilda looked over her shoulder and with a jump announced: “Snake!” There, among our crates and bags the rinkhals (ring-necked spitting cobra) was leisurely exploring his (or her) surroundings. (For some reason I've settled on a "she". Its light grey colour could be an indication of either a young male or a female. I choose the latter.)

As with every encounter with a snake Matilda and I had the same reaction: the initial fright and caution, but simultaneously the almost immediate urge to protect it. As an integral part in the eco system it has the odds stacked high against it. So many of our fears and prejudices are caught up in that single slithering body.

With a broom we guided it and quite willingly it went under the floor boards of one section of the room. Then we plugged every possible opening with bubble wrap, hoping that it will find its way to the outside of the building from there. It probably did, because later the afternoon it slithered back into the cool of our exhibition, coming through the outside door, going a very short distance through the Information Centre and then through an opening under the corrugated iron that formed the one wall. Our snake and I looked at each other - we were back at square one. 

It’s quite a challenge to guide a snake unobtrusively and casually back the way it came with a room full of people looking at an exhibition. By now Peter Naylor from the Information Centre was also involved and he saw it leaving through the door on their side, moving close against the outside wall and then disappearing down an opening into the foundation of the building.

That opening we plugged during the day, so that our snake won't bother our visitors and won't get killed in the process. When we left late afternoon and with the front door of the old bioscope locked we opened the hole so that it could get out and hunt.

For the rest of our time there in Wakkerstroom we kept the space around our table clean and clutter free and developed the habit of constantly watching our elongated friend's point of entry. There were no more incidents but the news spread and we had visitors popping in, not to see sculptures or pottery, but to hear about the latest snake developments.

What am I to make from this encounter amidst all the art, creativity and the finer things in life experienced over the weekend?

• Somehow I never saw the snake as a nuisance or an intrusion. We were the intruders in an old building that stood empty and neglected for decades and in that time became home for other creatures we share our world with. It can be seen as a lesson in humility and how to live together.
• To regard the incident as a clash between good and evil, or the monstrous and the beautiful would be a mistake. By looking closely you could see the delicate, smooth lines of her head and standing upright with her hood flattened she appears majestic. And with her being there amidst all the music notes and art pieces in the background, you realised that beauty has many patterns.
• It will be a pity if we were to kill or destroy everything we fear or to vilify what we cannot control or do not understand. So many opportunities for growth and discovery would be missed.
• I realised that I might be able to be very tolerant and accommodating towards this creature that I actually fear, but I still have a long way to go in kissing other dragons in my life. This is truly not an opportunity for being high and mighty, but rather for introspection, self discovery and renewed inner work. I can be judgmental, critical, intolerant and cynical because I am afraid or uncertain. Or I can act with courage and beauty. It can make such a difference, mostly in living with myself.

Now, every time I drive pass the old cinema that is standing there in the heart of our village right at the edge of the road, I look at a spot down low on the wall not too far from the front door. I know somebody who lives there and I wonder if she is all right.

George