Five years ago, after one of many trips to Armenia, I had an արեւախաչ (solar cross) tattooed onto the flesh that covers my ribs. The արեւախաչ is a cosmic spiral and Armenian symbol for eternity / divine / sacred / infinite. It has been painted and carved on the walls of ancient Armenian caves, pagan monuments, (Christian) churches and ‘cross’ stones. The meaning of the symbol was explained to me once by an Armenian winemaker, whose name has since slipped my mind. I remember that he had invited my parents and I to eat and drink with him in a cool, dark wine cave full of old spirits, who seemed to speak through him as he told us myths and stories from the pagan times. I specifically recall his description of the solar cross, that when the curve rotates to the right, it represents life-death-life; and when it curves to the left, it represents death-life-death. The image is dynamic in how it is “animated paradoxically in two directions” (Bachelard, p.84) -- a notion I strongly resonate with as a diasporic Armenian who is living both physically and psychologically in a constant state of push/pull with her land, people, and history...

Little did I know that this symbol would become both my dynamic image and integrating object for the purposes of the work I am embarking on now.