words.

[first attempt at public/blog writing on this platform. cheers!]

2023Feb22

I don’t know what I don’t know - 

you don’t say.

I can’t make myself know it because someone asks me to know.  I can’t promise my knowing is your knowing, even if I did know something.  I can look at the Hero’s journey, thank you Corey, and Campbell, and MJ, and Rubin, and — I can look at the journey wheel and propose that the majority of existence takes place in the unknown, so why have we not yet learned better skills to accept and appreciate the unknown?  Learning vagal nervous system states and regulation and co-regulation and absolutely the challenge is greater to stay regulated in the unknown, but I think of Temple Grandin and a firm hug, or I find nature, who never fails to amaze, and there is space for the unknown in all of that - this vastness will surely exist on the other side of this knowing, unknowing, knowing, unknowing, on all the sides of it and throughout, nature and her vastness are unshakable.  The heldness felt in a real hug is serum.  So I’m in a mess of unknowing, holding space for as many questions as time allows me to note, hearing the infinite unmet needs of all the world, and listening for the one small voice I’m most responsible for/to/with.  This speeding rocket through motherhood did not cast off it’s engines after launch, did not chart all destinations, did not know more than it did not know.  Vapor trails of love and longing and learning and fighting hard to live true to whatsmine - 

shredding and shedding the layers of shoulds and the oceans and oceans of notmine - this journey is threshold and abyss, is transformation, is rebirth, is infinite, this message will repeat itself, and the outcome will always be more unknown than known.  

Learn to Love the questions.  Thank you Jesse, and Rilke and —

My current work is on shadow, what is hidden, what we protect, and relates to 2 places in France in particular, a church in a friend’s childhood village where something hidden was unearthed, and the only known church with original fresco painting of Mary breastfeeding Jesus, along with a rather fascinating phoenix bird creature feeding and protecting her young in the nest.  Churches are ripe territory for dreams and nightmares.  This piece is designed to be disassembled and exhibited in the Cave of Resistance gallery, a cave of many lives, many handmade marks, many trials and errors and remedies, exhibitions and retreats, sharing and hiding.  Each piece tells a story, with or without the others, but should they come together - hooey! epic.