Azhaah…oh dear… I’m sorry. That sound and pitch are repeating themselves over and over in my head.
Women dancing. Women singing. Matriarchs. The rebirth in the Western World of the Matriarchs –
I read something recently from a Cree artist, who shared, “We didn’t have equality – we had different roles in our community” – I found something interesting in there.
Deserts and flowers. Sound – percussion – faces – smiling in hardship – in persecution – the arts will resist and persist through it all – some forms become stronger – political or anti-political – which is still political.
Reframing – how do we see the world through the eyes of others – or without eyes at all – sensory – absorbing through skin – our largest and only external organ.
Absorbing – smiling. Singing. Poetry.
I started falling in love with poetry when I realized it could be seen as a rebellious act – not conforming to high-brow English formats and structures – no periods – loose punctuation – word combinations that cause friction and sparks. Sparking synapses in dormant brain spots – deep within caves of subconciousness.
The pineal gland comes to mind.
The history of the colour yellow – do you know it – It was an act of rebellion – and texts and typefaces – fonts – Helvetica and Arial – Comic Sans – Papyrus – even Wingdings for goodness sake.
There is constructed, conscious effort formed in each of the things we use – that are available to us.
This pen, this colour. Periwinkle blue – softer than what would be used in the office… a poetic balancing to interject administration.
Softness, smiles – brown and green eyes – linens and wooden beads – folded and layered – shawled and tucked.
Women – supporting women. Our family is so fragmented, so injured – invisible wounds making lightness heavy – holding us back.
Healing myself to release without throwing negative energy – takes practice – changing negative charges to neutral.
Neutral. Love. Less attachment. Fewer expectations. Asking regularly for guidance and support – from all the realms.
My New Years intentions have been and are continuing to be practiced.
Still a hurt baby in there who comes out sometimes. Release, release – breathe. Calling energy back – calling love back.
Trusting the Universe or Creator or Spirit or/and intuition.
where rivers are born 