I am driven by a deep desire to see women claim and keep spaces which support and sustain their entire body and their whole being.
I am here to create:
- The art that is found in the quiet, defiant spaces. The art that is made in spite of. The creativity that is born knowing full well that it may be erased or caged, but takes its first breath anyway. The raw, ragged truths which hold all the riches.
- Sanctuary. The places that protect and preserve us when the edges feel too frayed, the fabric feels too thin and we don’t know how long we will last or how soon we might crumble.
- Real connection and true community. Getting into the trenches with the dark griefs and the long hours. I think that freedom is found when beauty and pain come together and neither one looks away. It’s one of the reasons I love roof tops – the sky is full of that kind of witnessing.
- A different outcome. A World that applauds aging without apology. A world that questions beauty and body ideals. I am here to celebrate the years that greet me without needing to erase the experiences that are etched into this skin of mine. I am here to cultivate a space where women define themselves. Where we choose not to view our lives through their lens.
- The words that honor the stories beneath the stories. To notice which parts are tangled and which parts are threadbare. To recognize and write the fabric of us.
I am here to witness:
- The human experience. I want to honor and witness my own living. I also want to honor and witness yours. I want to stay human. I am not seeking an upgrade to a more spiritual level (which sometimes looks like a seat of superiority that I do not find interesting or special).
- The spaces in between. Between what is said or unsaid. Between what is visible or hidden. Between what is accepted or rejected. At the end of every exhale there is a pause, a sliver of a second, a between moment that is almost always unnoticed. But still, it is there. It exists. It is not always true that what is most meaningful is centered or spotlighted. There are unspoken wonders taking place. They matter. On the periphery of everything we gaze at, there are a thousand supporting breaths, hands and heartbeats that we do not see.
- The tenderness in the torn hours. The moments of grace that are threaded together with loss and hurt. I believe that every piece of beauty comes with at least a slight burn. Maybe remnants from the heat needed to create it. To craft it.
- The kind of living that is intentional and deliberate. The kind of living which reveres the ordinary moments, the ones we are often encouraged to discard or dismiss. A living which challenges the norms we are spoon fed. The deeper layers that have a home way below the surface.
- The space of and/both. The way in which every truth can co-exist with every conflicting truth, but none of them loses their own merit. The way we are moving and static and living and dying in the same breath. The way everything is spectacularly connected and stunningly singular. I know now that I do not have to choose between any of it. This is the glorious, terrible human experience and our hearts are breaking and mending all at once.
This is the dawn of a new era, in so many ways.
Creatives are helping to shape the next chapter of what will one day become history. And creative women are at the front of this bold movement. It’s already happening.
I am here for all of this. The razing. The rebuilding. The beautiful revolution of what it means to be a woman telling the truth about her life and encouraging other women to do the same.
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