Naked and daubed with clay to hide the nakedness, and to take the anointment of the earth; struck over with bits of fluff of eagle’s down, to be anointed with the power of air, the youths and men whirl down the racing tracks in relays. They are not racing to win a race…a prize…or show their prowess. They are putting forth all their might, strength in a tension that is half anguish, half ecstasy, in the effort to gather into their souls more and more of the creative fire…energy which will carry their tribe through the year, through the vicissitudes of the months. (D.H. Lawrence, Mornings in Mexico)