Karin Wolf

Uterus: Love Yours--For Mimi

Madison, Wisconsin

I began my uterus the day it arrived in the mail.  I knew instantly that I wanted to adorn it with sequins in the style of a Haitian Drapo Voodoo to signify that I am, indeed, a devotee of the exquisite uterus.  My step-children, ages six and eight, sorted a thousand multicolored sequin into muffin tins.  Being a novice sequiner, I began with the uterus itself, choosing to make a radiant all-American uterus from reds, and pinks, silver, and blue.  This project is a patriotic ode.  As soon as I was done with the uterus itself I realized my mistake.  I need more contrast between my uterus and the glittery golden sky.  I was paralyzed in an artistic quagmire of my own creation.  I rolled up my uterus and threw it in the bottom of an ‘Urban Outfitters’ bag and waited for inspiration.  My uterus did not bejewel itself.  With a lack of contrast, the actual uterus blends into the yellow background like a subliminal femivision test.  I waited so long that finishing my uterus became an emergency.  We had to take it along to Ethiopian Culture Camp.  There was a huge cross by the fire pit.  I was worried of being judged, of being labeled the crazy-voodoo-uterus-spirit-flag-sewing-lady.  It has happened before.  “Oh, how beautiful, what is it?” they asked.  “Chicken,”  My partner teased.  Easy for him to say.  He was not the one sitting under the shadow of a giant cross sewing sequins on his uterus for the entire world to see.  It was surprisingly hot beneath the supersized cross.  I walked to the edge of Geneva Lake and met a woman named Colleen resting below the protective arms of an old broad oak.  She pointed out her 19 year old biological son and her six year old adopted one playing Frisbee together.  She wanted more children when her eldest was born.  At age 48, after invasive and expensive fertility procedures had not worked, she adopted a child from Ethiopia.  Now she has ovarian cancer and it is spreading about and the treatments are exhausting.  Ovarian cancer sucks.  I told her the truth.  Its not just any old abstract art project.  It is an exquisite (healing) uterus.  She saw it then.  We were quiet together.  I thought about my friend, mentor, and professor, Mimi Orner, who died of ovarian cancer (1959-2000).  She taught me and many others about the value of the exquisite uterus and the art of resistance.  I will always miss her.