The Tradition of Fallen Art
I have this tradition in my home studio that whenever an art piece falls from my gallery wall, where it was taped with that glorious green painters tape, I take it as a sign that the piece has served it’s particular purpose.
You see for me, each piece of art I make holds meaning; tells a story; has a hidden message waiting for me. My perspective when it comes to making art is steeped in symbolism, my interpretation is inspired by Jungian psychology and mysticism, and my motivation to create comes from the desire to peel back the layers of my conscious mind and dive into the subconscious layers of my psyche with wild abandon.
Sounds fun right?
I’ve been developing this practice with purpose and intent for the past 5 years, but if you ask me when this truly started, I’d say when I was a teenager in my room, late at night creating with that same wild abandon to communicate the trauma I experienced in my early years. Art is such an intuitive process, I truly believe everyone is creative, and we certainly don’t need to be taught..we just need to trust.
But back to the fallen piece, the one I happened to find just mere minutes ago and hastily opened my laptop to record these thoughts.
Each time I find a piece that has fallen I do three things within seconds:
Witness the piece by clearing my mind and bringing my full awareness forward
Check the date
Recall what was happening in my life at the time I made it
The one that fell today was created on September 27, 2023.
Who I was on September 27, 2023?
I was opening myself up to a new flow of Motherhood and homeschooling. I was devouring books about homeschooling and unschooling (notably John Holt and Kerry McDonald), and understanding my “why” for choosing this path, which was something I had yet to do.
What happened prior to making this piece?
I had spent the summer dissolving every identifiable part of myself - sounds daunting eh? I honestly didn’t choose to do this, it was something that happened organically and I suppose it was a fall-out from spending 6 months in a mentorship that focused on developing myself spiritually.
From May until the end of August, I went through a deep void where I released all titles, identities, and personas that I previously used to describe who I was. I let go of my art business and settled into my motherhood with a sweet rhythm that looked like baking with intention, folding laundry in meditation, and being the most present I could while also dissolving parts of me that previously felt as sure as the sun rising each day.
What comes up for me now when I look at this piece?
My eye is drawn to that little doorway on the right side with the words “With few exceptions, almost everything has changed”…
And I feel an overwhelmingly YES bubble up from my belly and into my chest, where it expands in my heart with surety that I am not the same woman I was when I made this piece. I smile when I think about how much I trusted the process of letting go, as uncomfortable as it was at times, it was a long process of saying “I trust who I am.”
I trusted the spiritual process of ordinary existence.
“and so they pull me towards the now.”
I kept coming back to the now and releasing the addiction of worry, comparison, and self-judgement. With the momentum of the horses, I allowed myself to be swept forward into where I’m meant to be; right here in my home with my family, in the mess of it all, embracing life at it’s finest from my dining room table.
And so it is.