march 21st

rhythms of the moon and sea

I have been settling in to my new place … slowly and surely.

My new home base in the country is teaching me to slow down. A lot of times, I don’t realize how quickly I’m moving and rushing and how it becomes my default state. After work, driving home and entering the long and bumpy driveway begins my unwinding. I hear the gravel and my shoulders begin to relax and my breath slows down. I begin to want the taste of a cigar some nights, swinging on the porch swing and letting the dog loose. Other nights, I’ve turned to a phone call to a friend and a comfort TV show or movie.

I have been letting a specific vision marinate for a couple weeks now. A vision of seven circles, all sewn together in a banner. They feel profoundly simple. I can complete one relatively quickly, but that only takes into account the time it takes me to brush the paint on. It doesn’t account for the hours and hours I spend ruminating on the vision, imagining it in different environments, and honestly just …. thinking about dots.

(top two and bottom right photo credits: Chris Primeaux)

These are the two pieces I was able to complete in my month / month and a half of hardly making anything. My main focus has been my survival. I still feel disconnected from myself and the world and yes - sometimes my art. I rarely force myself to make anything; when I do make it comes from a place of deep hope and trust that I will feel connected once more. It can feel terrifying to not know when that will happen.

I realized in my last therapy session something that was potentially obvious to my therapist, but he allowed me to come to my own conclusion in my own time. I had assumed the last couple months were me feeling depressed. I think more than feeling depressed, I am in a deep state of dissociation which then LEADS to shame and depression.

It’s now been two months since I returned from my residency and the dissociation began during my time there. I’m still unclear on if something happened to trigger my state or if that’s really the most important thing to know or not.

How can I sit with myself, AS I AM?

I began feeling overwhelmed with the reality that artwork will take up SPACE. It feels like there will never be enough room in the world for what I want to make and I’m trying to find the root of that feeling / thought. Who told me I was taking up too much space? What are the stories I’m telling myself about my own space?

My sister wisely advised me / encouraged me to write a love letter to the space my work takes up. I have yet to do it, but it’s on my list.

I drew a circle in the red sand and poked the dots, feeling the release of creating something that instead of taking up space, will be washed away and change overtime. It was incredibly freeing.

evidence of mental health walks and attempts to slow down

Coming up

Sign up here for my kid’s art classes at The Carnegie located in downtown Jackson!

Full disclosure - I don’t have any upcoming shows / residencies planned! I’m working on staying put, investing in my community here, and taking it easy. Right now, painting dots at home is the right amount for the capacity I have :)

Despite not having the “next big thing” on the horizon, I feel hopeful, or at least I cling to that hope that I do feel. I know that my worth as an artist is not tied to being a machine.

Muses

1. suburban grocery shopping for pillar candles that spoke to me with one of my besties. This reminded me of Frida Kahlo’s paintings and the cobalt blue speaks to me.

2. speaking of blue!!! the blue gin I keep returning to! so vibrant.

3. this window in my new bedroom.

4. the commitment that Chris has to photographing my work.

5. attended the Middle Tennessee Fibers Festival with one of my dearest friends, Jacob. I got some cotton thread and this community spun skein. It was made by lots of people who were learning to spin, one after the other, to create this wonderful yarn.

   

6. At the risk of sounding vain, I’d like to acknowledge myself as one of my own muses. I struggle to see myself as beautiful and wonderful as the candle, the window, the cobalt blue of the liquor and the sky, but my eyes contain hints of that blue. So maybe the magic is somewhere in me.

   My many different moods, faces, expressions, and experiences. I want to see my ebbs and flows as part of nature, the way I admire the moon and the sea. I contain multitudes!