Words Become Flesh • Violet Shadows

Eight
Violet Shadows
LONDON & PARIS
JANUARY 1992

VIOLET SHADOWS. PURPLE HEARTS. BRUISED SOULS. I looked at the
snow and I remembered the words of an art professor from a lecture
I attended in New York City. “Shadows cast by the sun on
snow are violet, not black. Look at the snow and you’ll see a purplish
hue. That’s because a yellowish incandescent light like that of
the sun casts its opposite. A violet purplish shade. Whereas, a cool
fluorescent light casts a warm, brownish shadow.”

Somehow this truth about light and shadow seemed significant
to me. What is presented on the surface of our personality, or the
personality of a family, has its opposite residing in the shadows. If
not in actuality, at least in potential, the opposite of the light we
attempt to shine is hidden in the shadows. It’s the ever-balancing
act of nature, of living in our dualistic world of light and dark.
San Francesco had spoken of the violet flame of transmutation.
Rabbi Ben had reminded me of how the dark wick and dark blue
flame of a candle support the golden-white light of the candle’s
flickering flame. No wick. No flame. No light. No shadow.
A victim of incest suffers as a prisoner of unspeakable horror
committed in the name of love. Whispers of love in the dark
attempt to conceal the purplish bruises inflicted on the body and
soul of an innocent child. If incest was not bad enough, I also discovered
another horror riding on the back of the beast of incest.
Hidden behind the facade of family was pure evil. I came face-toface
with the fact that innocent children had been made sacrificial
victims and violated in violet shadows . . .