Breast Massage Oil

Our breasts, the ripeness of womanhood, the cherished tender tissues that embody both sensuality and sustenance, have for many, become a burden. Our A, B, C and double D cups are lifted, separated, inflated: exaggerated to cartoon proportions, poked, prodded, examined and enshrined. Breasts expand and contract, they ebb and flow with the moon, and the hormonal tides of birth. They are strapped down and pushed up – all the while being discouraged from their biological calling – breastfeeding.

Our breasts receive misguided, Las Vegas adulation, while their biological purpose gets shrouded. Breasts, along with their under-valued role of sustaining life in babies, are also, as it turns out, canaries in a coal-mine, detecting our environmental invasions and storing the toxins of our trespasses for decades. They are barometers for the changing atmosphere of our planet and our bodies.