dryad western culture is so strangely obsessed with cleanliness, i don't understand it. we're surrounded by dirt, the entire planet is made of it. maybe we would understand it better and be more sympathetic of the environment if we were less obsessed with scrubbing it off of us. i like to be naked outdoors. if i lived somewhere more secluded i would lie naked in the dirt like margaret atwood's protagonist in surfacing, burrowing myself beneath the foliage. the sun would tint my skin chestnut brown, blending me in with the living ground. i want to press my body so tightly to the earth that i become a part of it, that i slip between the cracks to fuse with bedrock and magma. i want my heart to beat with the tide. |