As you all know, my core work is with the Embodied Arts. In fact, it is the only reason I am here. I self created out of tying my red converse on and running round that bodysoul ground which I had been prisoner of since the beginning… primal screams erupting from the great below, its molten earth shaping itself into my grandmother’s scythe as my hand, to cut down those psychic wounds which threatened to kill me and all I loved….. father complex mother complex sociopolitical complex… all of it needing to be thrashed back to its original state.
I find myself so driven by ‘the word’ to convey these messages from another world, the inner one, whose languages are expressed through the warp and woof of undulating e-motions, energy in motion, energy with temperature and color whipping itself into shape and form, screams and howls bursting into floods of tears to drench the parched earth of my bodyscape.
Image, sound, movement… anything BUT the word… because it is NOT her original tongue. Words are not my first language, which is why I suffer with them so and circle round and round and take so loooonnnnnnggggg to get to the point because it keeps shapeshifting and realizing itself, rising and falling and twisting and gathering more and more of itself in a plea to be understood.
Thinking – my inferior function. It makes sense, yes? Sense. Not because it is less than, that is the hierarchical mind that suggests that. It is because it was not the default system when I was a babe shaping myself… .why would I think first when the volatility around me threw me into my nervous system with each deadly threat to my survival. Earth knew what she was doing when she shaped me out of the clay of her/my existence….
And then the images which sprang forth out of that *primal* scape, yes? The monsters! the WITCHES! which some call primitive, another pejorative, to suggest simple. Not a complex thinker. haha! and yet from which all ecosystems, including the human, were fashioned out of. Images birthed out of the threats and the wonder of the skies into great beings, the projected Self, painted upon those torch lit cave walls… shaping itsellf into this CIVILizzzation.
Yes, so back to thisssssssssss. The snakesss of my energy system, my stuck in the ON terrorized position nervous system, shooting up my spine like the Great Snake it is! the Kunkalini system ever activating and energizng and driiiiiving through me to dance run and fuck. No, I will not sit still and no, you are not more enLIGHTened than me. I am turned on. I WILL fight AND flight. and not rigidy as more and more of these INbodied languages are separated out from by that oh so brilliant thinking mind that is not mine… is yours?
I invite us all to scratch upon our wall. Place some paper upon any one of them. Or if you prefer, down upon your floor which forces me to move like a monkey or a snake, a leopard a great phoenix rising and make my mark upon it. And reeeeeealiiiiiiiiiize what is happening here. A million or two or three, or could it be billions? of that oh so great BIG BANG moment of creation ever present to commune with me. Seeking to move and get the fuck away! and then, back in, to where I once belonged.
We are more bound by this sensate reality than any other. This house. this bed. This walk to the front door, and into the car, to the store, to live this world as imagined and created some of the human species, yet for which we are born into without question of and then told to STOP dreaming as we look out that window imagining the wildlings in the forest. To STOP talking to imagined friends! To stop working out our tensions and stress through our PLAY! to stop drawing for the fun of it, singing for the pleasure, dancing cause our nervous system needs to SHAKE IT OUT! SHAKE IT OUT!
Virgo can be about inviting in creative expression (kind of dumbed downed sounding after writing the above) as a regular practice, a regular part of your day as turning on the tv or cleaning your kitchen.
And I don’t mean the same old thing you know. Not the dance moves you were taught. Or the keep it clean art play you were bound by. Not the have to sing the popular song, but howling like your belly is crying out to sound her song!
As I wrote to in during Leo, the astro force which represents our creative self expression…
“This one doesn’t speak in our language.
She feels. She uses image. Movement. Words flow like incinerating fertile lava flourishing into new worlds. F*ck grammar! Unleashed art expression is her language and one of the only places her hidden face can be seen.
The most significant part of our humanity is hidden from us.
It is the key to our living a deeply satisfying and rich mythic life. It is your gift to a World in need of your cryptic sacred genius…
Paint like you are going to burn it. Dance like NO one cares how you move. Pound on the drum to the rhythm of your heartbeat. You will unleash the creative wild force of your nature… and your WILD beauty and unique genius as a human being WILL SHINE!
Blessings of the New Crescent in Scorpio, Hallowed Be Her Holy WILD Intense Ways.
Photo Story from one of my early works, Kill the Angel of the House, fashioned out of earth brought to me from around the world, the copper print of my naked body, blood of my menses, and feathers of dead predators…