Artist's comments ...
One night when Jim and I walked through our village
after it had snowed, I saw our shadows stretching before us because
of the moon. Jim's shadow looked like a surgeon wearing a mask,
mine looked like a nun. Later I wrote a poem about it, and the last
line read, "I lift my Sister-Aurora-of-the-hoary-arctic hands and
bless your blue shadow." That was the night Sister Aurora was born
and she has been with me ever since. She is my alter ego and my
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