Monday, February 8, 2010

Sense of Syncronicity

I was happy to discover copious amounts of dry lock lube and occasional dousings of lock deicer put enough slippery bits in the U-Lock mechanisms to keep them moving. Note to self: Keep up with lock maintenance
A growing boy needs his lunch:
Waiting for my spin buddy to show up I managed to get in a few pages:

Feeling pretty wiped today, like I was knocked off center, dazed by impact. The center was off-kilter, hanging awkwardly to the side counterbalanced by a pile of junk and fertile, rich poo.
Speaking with Carol helped me see that through an often traumatic and hard-earned experience I got a lot of goodness. Many aspects of strength and power and also wounds. She talked about her sense that I wasn't able to segway from place to place when we moved as a child and this has translated to areas of my life being iolated, like pockets. Processes of connection from the old to new went missing.

We spoke of art and creativity, my gifts and the sense that I'm here to do work that benefits the greater good. She began the process of having me describe my narrative from the beginning, from before my spirit entered a body, asking questions like, " What were you before you came here?" to which I replied, "I dont know". I have the sense of spirit and energy. I also have the sense that the universe is larger than the human mind has facilities to comprehend. That our languge just doesnt have words to describe the infinate. I elabortated something to the effect of even if our brains could know I get the sense it would only be one small facet of the gem that is life. In that discussion I rememberd what it felt like to realise that as a human being my very existence was a direct negative impact on the ecosystems of nature that I had fallen so deeply in love with. I recalled that time when I made a decision to make as light a footprint here as I could and still live a good life, a perplexing balance that I seek daily. We talked about how this is connected to creating and producing art work. I wonder now if this is dichotomy. The very act of placing paint on a palette represents a level of industrial destruction that directly and negativly impacts ecosystems. Once the work is created, if noone wants it, it sits and is essentially landfill. When I look inside, there's lots of landfill for sale and that doesn't feel good.

So I've atleast partially give myself permission to explore what art without landfill looks like. There's also the component of being a catalyst for change in people through my art work and the inner turmoil I have of being the reason that people might experience discomfort, since change for me has often represented discomfort. Seems like psychological sabatoge of my gift because I got weary, making art and listening to your insides can be hard to do when you're weary. Luckily, I havn't forgotten how to nurture myself.

I was encouraged to soften the memory of my narrative, to reframe events and feelings focusing on the positive aspects where I could find them. There is so much good in my history, this won't be difficult.

What is difficult is shaking the critical voice in my head that I attribute to my adopted father, that part of him that loved me so much that he wanted the best for me, to mold this person into the form of a successful and powerful adult. I had the sense this morning ,as I was thinking about what change looked like and how that might find mometum in my life, of being held to the wall (where I am now in my life) with his vice-like gripping hand around my throat yelling in my face, "Don't you dare change!". I can almost smell his breath and feel spittle on my face. There's stuff for the compost pile here.

I found it humorous Carol said she felt like starting my sessions were like getting a kid to settle down and do his chores, like she had to chase me around the house a bit. It's work, I understand this. Coping is tiresome work, as is absorbing impact. Recognition of what isn't working and reprogramming is exhausting and feels like trying to write cursive with your left hand when right-handed. Somewhere in here is balance and I'll have all the energy I need to succeed.

Grateful for the oppurtunity to heal, for the tough things that are so sweet when balanced, for a network, a desire to progress and a place to do the work. It truely is a good life, one that embraces duality and is full with everything I need to do what I came here to do. Even if I dont know all of the who, what, when, where, and why.

Im told I will notice subtle shifts that will amaze and please me. I sit with eyes wanting to see and a place for amazement and pleasure is prepared.

4-7" tonight, maybe the geese were makin a run for it:


Mirrored crops:





My Morning Jacket - Touch Me I'm Going To Scream, Part 2
and the lyrics

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