"In the middle ages an anchoress was a woman called to a solitary life, not cut-off from the world, but anchored in it. Her life was one of prayer and contemplation and her daily work. Her home was a small room, or cell, attached to the side of a church. There was a `Rule of Life` associated with anchoresses drawn up in the 13th century, which stated that the cell should have 3 windows that opened; one into the church, so she could participate in Mass and receive communion; one to communicate with her assistant, who lived close at hand and one to give advice to those who sought it."
it's the window to the outdoors that intrigues me most; a kind of drive-through confessional. the anchoress was considered to be "in" with the virgin mary, so she probably recieved a kind of respect that other women of this time did not. she prayed and did needlework. when she died, dirt was shoveled over her, into her little compartment in the side of the church. this became her crypt.
who knows what these women were thinking, what their motives were, if they felt genuinely "called." i've perused a few of their memoirs . . . and a few biographies of "the modern-day anchoress."
~
i'll bet she sometimes snuck out of her little room . . .
notice the scars in her dress, where she has sewn up the holes she ripped while wriggling out of her window . . .
her handmaid, who washes her clothes, knows about this.
it's the window to the outdoors that intrigues me most; a kind of drive-through confessional. the anchoress was considered to be "in" with the virgin mary, so she probably recieved a kind of respect that other women of this time did not. she prayed and did needlework. when she died, dirt was shoveled over her, into her little compartment in the side of the church. this became her crypt.
who knows what these women were thinking, what their motives were, if they felt genuinely "called." i've perused a few of their memoirs . . . and a few biographies of "the modern-day anchoress."
~
i'll bet she sometimes snuck out of her little room . . .
notice the scars in her dress, where she has sewn up the holes she ripped while wriggling out of her window . . .
her handmaid, who washes her clothes, knows about this.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
"Hi, Diane!"
"Oh my God, hello! How are you!"
"Great! Just great, Ohh how's the baby?!"
"Oh yeah, we lost it."
"Oh, what, oh no."
"Yeah, no it's okay. It's really okay. We're trying again, so you know-"
"Uh huh-"
"Yeah, it's due date would have been last November twelfth."
"I know, I know-"
"So...but how are you? How's the dance studio Pilates thing going?"
"Oh great, you wouldn't believe it. You know you should absolutely come to some classes."
"DOUBLE TALL CARAMEL MACCHIATO"
-And so on. Only yer local Anchoress know's for sure. I'm off to make Grandma's dindin.
[Edited on Feb 13, 2006 6:17PM]