There is something deeply satisfying about this work, and yet something about it that feels so unsettling. It speaks to me in that visceral sense, where I may not have the exact right words to put to it, but the emotions are there.
I like it, but is it enough? Do these mere five elements qualify as a work of art? Technically, the act of putting paper to glue and sticking the one thing to another is all it takes to be a collage. But is this collage lacking? Is it enough? Does it deserve the same recognition or level of attention of a more complicated arrangement?
Sitting in on the very first Author University mixer this afternoon, under the umbrella of Penguin Random House, the publisher who bought my old publisher, I felt these questions deep within me. Not about the art, but about me.
Am I enough? Do I qualify to be here? I didn’t come about my role as an author in the same way these other writers had. No agent. No query letter- except by way of being contacted by my editor and invited to submit one. Technically I have a book that was legit published by a legit publisher. Technically I am now a Penguin Random House author. But do I deserve that title in the same way someone who took the more traditional path?
When I confessed I was feeling this insecurity, the one commonly known as Imposter Syndrome, during one of the breakout sessions and explained that I don’t have an agent and my editor is no more, and the old publisher approached me instead of the other way around- I was met with an enthusiastic round of assurance that I very much belonged.
It was a great reminder and much needed today. Your path is your path. It doesn’t matter if what it took to get here looks different than what anyone thought it should. It doesn’t matter if what you do and how you do it is radically different than what is considered the norm. It doesn’t matter if some think you took shortcuts and some won’t acknowledge the amount of work it took. It doesn’t matter if your journey was a mere five steps or if it took you an extra fifty. What matters is that you are here. You made it to this place.
And you very much belong.
(Artwork and words originally posted to Instagram on March 9, 2021)
Coming across the above post was a bit serendipitous in it’s timing. A bit like my three year ago self knew what I needed to hear today. I have to admit that the feeling of Imposter Syndrome I described in it, is one that comes nipping at my heels whenever I’m in the midst of the kind of shift1 that is happening in my life in this moment.
I’ve been overwhelmed by the growing task list of late, to the degree that I find it challenging to even get that task list down on paper. There are many good things happening, much good coming on the horizon and in this current season. And still so many uncertainties, although I think I’m beginning to feel maybe, possibly, sometimes, less anxiety about those lingering unknowns.
These are not small unknowns, things like where will I live? tops among them. This one stirs up another inner critic message, the ever present “what will people think of me?” one, though that one is starting to lose its power over me as well. More potent are very deep core internalized messages that I need to remind myself to breathe through. To remind myself to stay present in the here and now and not to get lost in the weeds of my very creative worst-case-scenario thinking.
I am grieving leaving the familiar and comfortable spaces I’ve created in this present home. And in that serendipitous timing sort of way that the post spoke to me above, I found an old video of my four year ago self sharing a message, just when I needed to hear it again, about being okay feeling your feelings. This grief will not consume me. By feeling it, I release it. I move through it. I allow it to move through me. In that passage I begin to see the glimmer of light flickering just ahead.
I have a plan and a backup plan. And enough good happening in the here and now to remind me of my conviction for the current shift season. The restructuring2 I chose to undertake in order to move forward in a more sustainable way. To build and rebuild the life I was only just beginning to move into four years ago when the pandemic began.
I look at the works in progress scattered across my table and recognize how I am processing it all through my hands. Suddenly the nests, and vessels, and pods that sort of resemble a chrysalis, and these strange organic structures, are not individual things. They are fabrications of memories, both loss and beauty. Propagating ideas of hope and wonder, their final form still unknown. They are seedlings, markers, not of time, but of life, which I have gathered and planted along my way.
Happenings in the here and now:
After a few years pause, I’ve renewed my connection with Xanadu Gallery this year and already one of my works sold. If you’re in the Scottsdale, Arizona area, be sure to stop by. It is a beautiful contemporary space and many of my collage works and shields are available to purchase there.
Over on the Recover Your Intuitive Voice blog, the membership community is 33 days into the 100 days of daily posts, running concurrently with the global 100 days project. We just had our first community hangout on ZOOM a few days ago and it was the absolute sweetest heart filling time of connection. The introductory rates will be ending this weekend, so jump in now if you’ve been considering it to lock in your membership at the lowest rates.
Bonus: Members who join or upgrade to the annual rate this month will also be enrolled in my next online live workshop, meeting three Thursdays April 18th, April 25th, and May 2nd for 3 hours each. Full details to come, but we’ll be continuing to explore the sculptural potential of the traditional craft of Momigami. Visit the blog here.Fiber Arts Takes Two has invited me to be a guest in one of their Friday Feature Artist interviews. Tentatively scheduled for May 10th, the interview will be available to view on their Facebook page and YouTube channel. Stay tuned for details.
Two featured courses are each on sale for $45 through March 26th on the Canary Rising platform. Small Scale Assemblage and Art and Assemblage, each taking a different approach to the art of assemblage.
My workshop Encaustic Memory Keepers opened on Jeanne Oliver’s platform this month.
More news to come. With love and gratitude to you all!
thanks for sharing , this is very inspiring!