Mapping Psyche

At night I descend a ladder down into the land of dreams, guides show me the way, and I climb up to awaken with the light of day.

Lightning

When there is too much imbalance in the charge between sky and ground, or between mind and matter, lightning strikes. If I am rejecting who I am, it can be life-threatening. By allowing, instead of resisting, I rebalance. As the storm subsides, I can choose to befriend myself.

Earth Energy

I had a vision of a woman looking at a mountain. I put myself in her shoes, and I was surprised to realize it was not about the heights or the view. There was energy coming from below.

Come down to Earth, it told me, be grounded. Make hay while the sun shines over your life.

Wave

It felt like a wave passing over me: the unexpected, unwanted news that my partner lay with a head injury in an emergency room in another country. Placed on hold with lulling music as I waited for a nurse to come on the line, I suddenly felt exhaustion engulf me. I bent over on the bench where I was seated, holding my dog in my lap.

That night I had a dream that my partner and I were swept under a huge tidal wave. Under the water we were holding our dog and we were able to breathe. I knew we would ride out this wave.

Tis Ours

Though there is much to fear, there is much more than fear. Body and soul kept alive with meals and music, plumage and prayer. Sun sets into night’s symphony. And, as Emily Dickinson wrote:

Tis Ours — to wince — and weep — And wonder — and decay

River

The unconscious speaks to me in dreams, and sparks creativity, allowing me to create and make meaning. I heard the Talking Heads on the radio after making this piece, and smiled at these lyrics:

Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

Gifts

She came to me in a dream. Thin body, bright eyes. A simple life, provincial. She handed me two wrapped packages that fit in the palms of my hands. But, I did not recognize them as gifts. It did not occur to me she had anything to offer me.

I hope she visits me again. She, unashamed and grounded, rooted and instinctual. And, I hope that, by then, I am prepared to receive her gifts.

Crossing the Threshold

I saw my own reflection in this girl. She wears a costume and marches. She appears fatigued, exhausted from beating this drum, pursued by a lizard or dragon behind her.

She’s a metaphor for how I feel as I shift from the first half of life into the second. My ego, fears and inhibitions have driven me for almost forty years, and my inner child is tired. On the “other side” of the threshold, rock walls became wings of a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Loss

As if I am still there, Or it were still a choice, To walk along with you.

Awakening

I tell myself: Don’t sleep through life, numb, drifting aimlessly. Give birth to yourself, gradually, as the moon cycles.

The same day, after making this piece, I read these words by artist Rita Greer Allen, “the form of a whole hilly landmass, built up and carved and shaped into the pregnant body of a woman.”

An affirmation, a splash in the face.

Uncertain Path

There are times when I don’t know where to go, which direction to face. I am searching for a sign, but the marquee is blank.

Sitting still long enough, I face the darkness, and let it envelope me. In doing so, I realize that I am not lost. Uncertainty is part of the journey.

This piece became a prayer: Help me find my way. Help us find our way.

Split

When I made this piece, it spoke back to me. There is a woman sitting, centered, as I want to be, but also another walking a tightrope. I saw myself in both women, and so I connected them with one heart and two arteries.

In doing so, I saw how my life force was being split, energy diverted to sustain an old role. Like the overturned bowl, this was a watershed moment.

Generational Divide

The eyes of Greta, climate activist, are also my own eyes, the daughter of my parents. They are also the eyes of the younger generations born after me looking at we older generations in an era of reckoning with our role in the warming of the planet.

On a personal note, this represents my own sadness and grief over my own parents’ political radicalism influenced by conspiracy theories. The tears flowing to green is my hope that grief, both personal and collective, will bring renewal.

Pandemic

So many fears were present. Alongside the Covid-19 pandemic and climate change, the events involving police brutality and murder of George Floyd also found their way into the piece during my painting stage.

Making this piece helped me to process the darkness in the news in the spring of 2020, and the fear it evoked in me. It also helped me to remember that I am just one person.

Healing

Holding back what I wanted to say, carrying heavy baggage, accidents along the way… What causes multiple sclerosis?

I may never know, but I am healing. I shed old skins and put down roots. I tend my own soil with rest, with poetry, with creativity. I make myself a haven where flowers bloom. I reassure my immune system that it need not attack. I am not so nervous anymore. Here I can be, me.

Inner Journey

Like the rings of a tree, life spirals out from its origin. There is opportunity, if I take it up, to journey inward. Instinct and intuition as guides, I may discover parts of myself longing to be seen, known and embodied.

As I approach the center, there is an awareness of what is beyond sight, beyond knowing and beyond my vulnerable body. There is great comfort in greeting the source.