I wrote baba yaga’s hut in response to this assignment.
Exploring and sharing the secret parts of ourselves (an ongoing project between my friend and I rooted in Emergent Strategy and Octavia Butler's Parables novels).
My white gaze undeniably determines what I do and don't stock. It's time to change this.
New year collage 2020
The Witch of Wands reaches up to the Moon. Her fire is her signal, an invitation to magic. She stands tall, reaching high.
sea, ever changing, ever constant.
what do you know about mother?
you cannot know mother.
"Mooooooon!" Earth would call up into the darkness. "Gealllaaaach! Come down here and talk with me, for I long for a sister who understands me, and I feel you could be the one."
For the full moon in Pisces.
Creating and supporting healthy, diverse, nourishing conditions for my business to grow in.
Twenty seconds in the wave came up through my body
I was sobbing
moved through it
breathed through it
I threw the weirdest shapes
got out of my head
let my body lead
This month I am experimenting with:
* Overcoming nice girl conditioning
* DESIRE / dance
* Zero fucks
the space between/
shift back and forth between
structure and freedom. commitment and spontaneity.
Doing the work, seeing it through, and still being open to what’s new and exciting.
An altar to witness my commitment to self in an anxious, stuck-feeling moment.
Literally, we are having our ‘selves’ sold back to us.
a reminder of
constant flux, and you
they are waymarkers on your path
May I allow what is incubating within me
the time and space
to come forth slowly,
in its own way.
A poster to celebrate the full and new moons of the wheel of the year in 2019.
in our bodies
that we are enough.
Keep it spacious, grounded in intention and mystery, and led by desire.
It is midwinter. The trees are bare, there is little green among the greys and the browns.
There are seeds, hidden, unseen, in the cold, damp earth.
Let us be here, now, in this moment. Nothing more.
Let us be present.
Nothing so scary or vulnerable as taking hold of my own life, its minutes, its days, and forging my own path.
Loving my work and getting properly paid is the only way I know to run a sustainable business.
In response to this, I made this. Lyrics to Joyful Girl, by Ani DiFranco (1996).
I say it with a smile but I do not say it lightly.
I close my eyes and take in the stillness.
Everything is so still
and everything is in flux.
Can I listen?
Can I learn to listen?
“What would it look like, to centre desire?”
I am so used to resting my identity on output.