One hundred miles from Tonopah, Nevada, a narrow, unmapped canyon holds five hundred years of Shoshone dreaming. The arching stone walls are alive with petroglyphs of the Great Mother’s sacred yoni.
The odor of sage here is so strong it smells like all the world’s grandmothers are baking turkey. The sense of place is overwhelming.
Some three hundred miles away is the nowhere where nuclear weapons were born and where Robert Oppenheimer “became death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Today the Canyon of the Vaginas, earth’s birth canal, lies waiting for who or what, comes next into the world.