It is said that blood is thicker than water.
It defines us, binds us, curses us.
Whether it is understood as rebirth to be associated with life,
or as penance, mortification,
a red wire runs through our entire history.
Blood ‘intentionally shed’ becomes a word of ancient power,
imbued with a primordial sacredness, a seemingly masculine strength,
but which in ritual reveals a long-hidden secret,
the idea of a divinity
that inextricably binds us to woman.
