God will only sprout what is true in my life
Purple Studio Doors - Self-portrait
Colored Pencil - 2024
January 2025
The artist's angst—the discomfort while searching for the truth, for the portal opening to the inspired authenticity of the moment. The tension that inspires growth and change.
It’s the beginning of January, and I’ve been under the influence of the energies of the dead of winter. I had the flu, and I can’t get out from under its fatigue. Each day, I have to surrender to the overwhelming weight of being tired. The year was filled with productivity and goal-setting, and as the year turned, I was met with an energy of slow down, and there was no arguing with it.
An unwinding—not only from the year prior but 41 years of living life. Like a corkscrew digging into the earth, my energy dug into the frozen ground to release the burdens and the lies I’ve been carrying. This is what getting older looks like. The prayer for sovereignty and clarity, freedom and joy—the first step is to dispel the lies. As the lies start to slough off, what is revealed is a world I had known when I was still young, wild, and free. There’s magic, a twinkle, and a wink in every moment. As if there is a playmate in each moment reaching out her hand to invite me to play, to see the joke, the wonder, joy, and beauty. Taking off the veil that I inherited, the glasses that were placed on my wild eyes. Reclaiming my birthright—my radical sovereignty, my god-self. For me to enjoy, to be in pure pleasure with, to laugh at the endless inside jokes between me and God. To invite and spark the wild in my beloveds.
A whole planet where it appears all are consuming the lies. But as the wonder is revealed, I see the pockets of humanity that are still connected to the line of light, truth, and freedom.
Found in the hole-in-the-wall restaurants where the cook is cooking her grandmother's recipes. Her palate knows what nourishes the spirit, and there’s a line out the door because everyone who comes gets nourishment that is beyond filling the belly. She knows what food is actually for.
The artist who keeps showing up in his studio, fighting the depression and obstacles, and the bad art made—he keeps showing up. And all the spaces he goes into, he brings his art and his play like fresh air in a stagnant reality.
The wonder is revealed in the woven textiles worn by the women found in the jungle to the mountains of Peru, to the dancers in the pueblo centers in Northern New Mexico. Those textiles are woven prayers, woven songs, and woven spirits. The dresses know they’re alive, and no scientist in a room with their measuring tools can convince them otherwise.
The stories, rituals, and spells that awaken when spoken—waking up something that lives eternally through time and space. Ignited when shared between a grandparent and a granddaughter or grandson. Ignited when the candle is lit, when the prayer is spoken. Keys to portals throughout time.
Examples of what I see are parts of us still connected, and not under anyone’s thumb. Almost naïve—that freedom that is inherent in every moment. It rings true in the chord strummed or the note played. Each act defying the parasite that feeds on all of us. The lie is that it is powerful.
The nature of the universe is that we are magicians and the weavers of this woven reality. We get to pull in color, lyrics, shapes, and textures.
So as I am under the blanket of winter, I look at the seeds nestled under the cold ground, seeing which ones have the vitality and willpower to pierce the surface. I am discerning as to which ones I will water. Right now, I continue to allow space, solitude, and silence, deep in the unknown. God will only sprout what is true in my life, so I have to listen deeply, knowing that what will come may not be at all what I assume or guess is around the bend. Something in my being knows when I’m in the presence of truth. For now, I surrender, rest, and untangle the lies from my being so I can show up to the present moment with no agenda but my humility, knowing that what I do know, is that I do not know.
