An Exercise in Understanding

If I was an ancient, ineffable being (and who says I'm not), you might be able to summon me with some well-whispered devotions and offerings.

 Start by filling a bowl with carefully selected treasures:

Labradorite, with the stunning flashes of blue, green, and gold.

Black moonstone, a pool of water at midnight made crystalline.

Opal, like a portal to a realm of faerie fire.

Pearls like miniature moons.

And a sprinkling of gold flakes, like sunlight playing on a stream.

A snail's shell.

Burn an incense that smells like a pine forest.

Into a glass teacup add fresh rose petals, mint, lavender and sage - steep in barely boiled water for three minutes.

Gather a small bundle of whatever is growing, or not growing, in the current season. Twigs, dried flowers, and seed pods are as effective as asters, thorny sprigs of blackberry, and coreopsis. Bind the stems with cotton thread.

A sewing needle and paintbrush should be laid within the summoning circle. Open a window and invite the wind in.

And lastly, whisper these sacred words penned by E. E. Cummings:

love is a place

& through this place of

love move

(with brightness of peace)

all places

yes is a world

& in this world of

yes live

(skilfully curled)

all worlds

The construction of this summoning…a play on "what three things would you put in a chalk circle to summon me"…I enjoy it so much because it is an invitation to see a collection of things and construct a meaning from them. And the creation of a painting, or a song, or anything really is much the same.

Do you know me better now?

A part of me hopes so. And another part hopes that you are more than a little mystified by this list of things I love and am drawn to, because I feel exposed in sharing that which calls me.

But it's liberating, too. To release yourself, or your work, to the world is to both invite judgment and to declare that you don't give a damn. At least I suspect that that's a healthy way to approach artistry.

I invite you to judge. I hope that you enjoy what I've shared (or who I am) and I hope that you find reflections of yourself in the work (or in me) - but ultimately, my work and myself are not put on display for you.

I'm always asking myself why I make the art that I make. Today, the answer is because the sharing is how I come to understand myself.