Our definitions of "good" and "bad" have changed a little bit. Obedience is not as greatly valued as it used to be, but kindness and a willingness to work hard still sound pretty good.
In my imagination, though, these ladies take on the role of Nature goddesses. Like nature, they are deadly and implacable. They eat you. And like nature, they have their charming side.
I'm working on a set of pieces for a recycled art show in Bellingham. Since I live on an island I'm forced to think about my waste stream, and so I have far less trash to work with than my mainland peers, who can probably find everything they need in a single afternoon of dumpster diving.
Instead, I looked at the trash that's available to me here in this rural area. Firstly, there is offal. My neighbor slaughtered 16 lambs, as he does every year before the lean months of winter. I have some meat in my freezer. On one of my beach walks, I found where he had dumped the hides and offal for the eagles. In an act of kleptoparasitism, I took some of the hides home, shedding sand, rotting fat, and fleece as I went. I had this idea that I'd prepare the hides to make vellum. It's a labor intensive, stinky job that I spent a few afternoons on but then somehow never got back to. Some of the hides rotted past use, none of them lost all their fur, and in the cold of winter I finally steeled myself to return to the project.
In the mean time, I had a pile of trash that was created in the last freeze, including some plastic restaurant buckets that were under the gutter drain and buckled as the water froze. Perfect. I'll make a drum for the lady using an undamaged part of a bucket.
I like the idea of mandalas, especially when dealing with nature goddesses, who embody the cycle of the year. The design of this drum includes the nest with eggs for the beginning, and a raven skull for the ending, and then two ravens looking either protective or menacing, depending on whether you are a good or a bad person.