Somewhere along the way I learned not to take up space. Maybe it formed in me as a child, or maybe it was passed on to me through my great grandmother, who would sit at her table and quietly observe us. I’ve felt left out of many of the environments that have been created that reward noise. So I am working on creating my own spaces, where noise and existence are not synonymous. I will continue to work in my little corner, for now, and I will continue to help rewrite my (and my family’s) burden of feeling as if we don’t deserve to be heard. I will find solace in my breath, the true and constant reminder that I am meant to be here. In the mean time, you are invited to join me in this space. In fact, you’re already here. Thank you for supporting me in my work.
We're singing the blues
“We’re not “failures” if we don’t feel happy. Sometimes healing and connecting more deeply to the love inside of us is painful. It can bring us in touch with something we have hidden from. It’s this pain that leads us to deeper questions: What is it we’re looking for? What is it we really need?
You know, this is the blues. We’re singing the blues. And there’s a joy, a strength in our yearning. There’s a beauty in our yearning. And tears are not a sign of failure. This is the world of tears. And there are so many different kinds of tears.”
Krisha Dass
on his way
How strange it is to not be working on a weekday. Like stepping out of the stream and watching everyone go about their routine. You’re really just looking at yourself, mindlessly completing the tasks that get you from here to there. One man drinks a coffee, another is on his way. It’s good to create space. To separate and detach.
it was all wrong
I wish I didn’t have to take this photograph.
important things
I taped over the clock
I taped over the clock on my stove. One more tool of obligation. So tired of knowing where I stand. Confused about what I should feel. Ignoring my body. Not being here. So tired. The clock says time is circular. The calendar says it’s linear. The body seems to disagree with both. But I’m so tired.
a silhouetted shelter
The night brings about an undeniable simplicity. Details fade away and we're left as nothing more than shapes and silhouettes. A needed respite from all the judgment in this world.
2017.
the archetype
More than ever I’m noticing the archetypal characters that keep showing up in movies and shows. I think that’s why I’ve been hesitant to write fiction over the past few years. I’m afraid of making my characters one dimensional, which is much less than any human deserves, even if they’re imaginary. I am looking for ways to present and build my characters with the complexity and depth that we’ve seemingly forgotten exist within each other.
I'm This by Peter Cat Recording Co.
walk with me as I lift the veil [2/2]
Dear Jesse,
After reading your thoughts on "a view into something more", the words "thin places" kept resounding in my head. For what you seem to be describing is the thin veil that can exist between the holy and the human.
“There is in Celtic mythology the notion of ‘thin places’ in the universe where the visible and the invisible world come into their closest proximity. To seek such places is the vocation of the wise and the good — and for those that find them, the clearest communication between the temporal and eternal. Mountains and rivers are particularly favored as thin places marking invariably as they do, the horizontal and perpendicular frontiers. But perhaps the ultimate of these thin places in the human condition are the experiences people are likely to have as they encounter suffering, joy, and mystery.”
There have been many times in my life when I have experienced thin places. Definitely in nature, in the presence of newborns, listening to music, reading poetry, being creative. Perhaps the most profound experience of feeling and seeing something more was being with grandma, grandpa, and grandma doris as they crossed over. Especially Grandma Doris. It felt as if I was walking down this long hallway with her, a space between earth and heaven. I had never felt that kind of energy, surrounding me and coursing through me. There really are no words to describe it, love, peace, divine, total trust, and the absolute knowing that everything was as it should be. I keep wanting to write about those 10 days and the journey I took with her but words seem to fall short.
The other recent visit to a thin place was that day in the auto junk yard with you. That day has been on my mind a lot because it was mystical and magical. A story or a poem about it is brewing inside.
I'm not sure how or why I have had views into something more, but it has helped me know that life is worth living. I am certain that fear blocks our access to thin places, as does living only in our heads.
So thanks for the opportunity to share these thoughts.
Let me know how all this lands on you.
Love you,
Mom
2017.
a nonhuman entity that is not necessarily inhuman [1/2]
“We all move on the fringes of eternity and are sometimes granted vistas through the fabric of illusion. Many refuse to admit it; some make mystical stews about it; I feel a mystery exists. There are certain times when, as on the whisper of wind, there comes the clear and quiet realization that there is indeed a presence in the world, a nonhuman entity that is not necessarily inhuman. I believe we are born with an incredible program for our life to be, tucked away in a small cranium and pressing to grow and function. I have often had a retrospective vision where everything in my past life seems to fall with significance into logical sequence. Intuition, suspicion, or confidence in new ventures: there is a strange strain within me when advantage is not taken of some situation, the immediacy of recognition of the rightness or wrongness of a mood, a response, a decision— they are so often valid that i am increasingly convinced that we have yet to grasp the reality of existence.” - Ansel Adams
I read this last night and I’m still trying to make some sense of it. I understand this feeling that he has. I believe that there is a deeper, overlooked connection to our world. He goes on to explain a few peculiar instances where something felt a certain way and turned out to be true. For example, he gives and anecdote: Adams was walking down the street in San Francisco and decided to stop in his tracks for no reason. As he stopped, a cinderblock dropped off a building two feet in front of him. I’ve had similar experiences before, I think we all have. We have these seeds of knowing buried deep within, and when something happens that proves it to be true, we are reminded of its familiarity, as if we knew it was coming. And maybe we do.
But what interests me more are the transcendent experiences that don’t have such clear consequences. There have been times in my life where I do feel that there is something bigger, more beautiful, and extremely powerful surrounding me. It’s not about intuitively predicting an outcome or looking into the future. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s a moment of nowness. I can think of a couple examples:
In Philly, at 2nd Street Subway Station, there is a bend in the tracks, just about 200 feet down the line. It’s where the two tracks curve from East-West to North-South. There is a moment, I have only seen it three times, where the East bound train is curving north, and the Westbound train is making its way south and eventually west. There are a few seconds when the light from one train reflects off the other as it curves out of sight. It sounds so ordinary, but something about the beauty of these two moving machines creating something in harmony touched a chord deep within me.
More often than not, I find these moments when I’m in nature. I had many instances of this feeling on my trip. Two weeks ago I saw a group of birds dancing together in the sunset. The moment I saw the Tetons for the first time, and the Northern Lights. Some experiences have been simple and tucked away and others have been grandiose and blatant. It feels like I’m looking into another dimension of our world. The layers of reality are peeled back and I’m able to experience something greater, even if it is ephemeral.
Do you think everybody has the ability to look beyond and experience this feeling? Or is it more about opening our eyes and hearts to the possibility? If so, are there any ways that I can invite these experiences into my life more? and have you ever had moments where something you see or do allows everything to fade away and fills you completely with the feeling of life and beauty?
2017.
Memory Lane by Sarah Wheeler
Submission for Button Poetry Video contest. Poetry by Sarah Wheeler (www.sarahwheelerpoetry.com/) and visuals by Sarah and myself.
enduring but delicate
Billions of years of layers pushed up out of the valley floor, both enduring and crumbling under our feet.
different language
on this day I remembered
A week before, I was on a small bus en route to a small coastal town for a break. We passed over a bridge and a couple dozen feet below me children were playing in the river while their parents sifted through the riverbed. I felt called back to this place— reminding me how my connection to water started when I was young. I boarded a bus with 2 rolls of film and enough money for a few tacos (about $1 USD) and anxiously made my way back to this place, not knowing if I would be welcomed. I shot one of my favorite rolls I’ve ever taken. Splashing around with the kids and talking to parents, I remembered why…