Revolving Dorje
Sometimes I come here to write thinking there’s so much to share, but find myself staring at an empty block instead, reflecting only on what’s been made of all that’s been going on. Such is the case with the latest piece of art, finished just today. September was a transitional month navigating change, recalibrating, and the onset of autumn feels so in line with all of it. I welcome this turn of seasons like a new chapter of my life in the making. While the shift was fresh, a painting was creating itself in my head down to the details, but I still avoided approaching it because I knew how challenging it would be to sit there day after day churning through a thought process that pulled in so much emotion and some deeply rooted stuff. The painting process ensured that I would confront it all and learn from it if I chose to see it through. The technical style I’ve been working in over the past few years has not been liberating by any stretch, but to find my troubles in the imperfections while in pursuit of perfection is inevitable. Mind traps set to discover wormholes that could go to some serious depths if I give way to whims. At first this painting was grueling, because I knew how far I had to go, and my somatic condition insisted on driving my efforts for a time. A knot stuck in my chest, real pain of attachment and a dysregulated nervous system. Despite some beautiful rainy and sunny days outside my window, choosing the music I wanted to listen to, or a meditation, lecture, or audiobook, and despite all feeling well within my control, I managed to drag myself through a very painful but ultimately cathartic process. And I came through, not unscathed, but changed in every way. The power of art can do this. And the kind that creates itself urgently in your mind first, then motivates a start into unknown territory, has that ability more than any of other kind in my experience. I didn’t even know the symbol of the work until it was complete, then it stared me down in a familiar way that harkens to some of the struggles of the past two decades of my life as a mother, a lover, a friend, and a work in progress. Art is not the only messenger in my life, but most definitely a teacher when I need it most. I follow it, not the other way around. It makes the unconscious conscious.
Over the past decade, symbols of Tibetan Buddhism have pervaded my consciousness. I have no cultural ties to it — only visions of deities, talisman, and spiritual weaponry. If something appears, I look it up to learn what I can about it, and there is always wisdom there to be found that recenters me before I give way to more surface level thoughts and tendencies. I wouldn’t claim to be Buddhist or any spiritual discipline, but I welcome these gifts with an open mind. The painting that created itself in inner vision pushed through and revealed itself only at the finish line. It’s not the first time this has happened, but one of only a few I could tell in comparison. I’ve been studying its meaning since. And it’s been so helpful to explore its truth parallel with personal experiences. I titled it Amulet, because it’s a symbol I now wear in the form of knowing, as I’ve absorbed it’s message and feel I have earned it, though I know how easy it is to forget what is learned in times of strife.
During pandemic, I decided that art is my primary relationship. It’s accompanied me my entire life as all else has been fleeting. My tattooing has been further enriched by themes I explore through art as connection that I share with my tattoo clients which has greatly contributed to my art life. I never saw the two coming together until about a decade ago because I kept them so separate until a particular series built a bridge between them. That series I released a book about (Tornado Dreams, now out of print). The work I made during the pandemic in 2020 solidified my relationship to making art from a meaningful place, and I could reasonably state that it’s all been catharsis since then.
Recently, I found myself offering that I would censor my work to avoid upset to someone I care about. I have not avoided telling intimate stories, but I have not centered myself in those works. And a concept was born like an epiphany is formed, now persisting as a piece that is destined to be created. There is a message here, and a strong one I feel, about the development of the muse within who fought a lifetime to believe in her own value. The censorship was about protecting and honoring a bond. But I harvest the essence of meaningful materials and use that substance as a language that speaks beyond my own story. Without understanding the drive to channel what feels much larger than myself, I thought I was left with the conflict between that which is limited in its ability to speak for itself and liberating the cause of its existence. I had only to adjust my perspective, and wading through this uncertain place forced me to expand my project beyond perceived limitations. The price to pay was my own to set. Once again, art reminded me that I chose it for a reason.
I will be sharing my latest painting, which is not for my exhibit next fall (though hardly an aside) to my recent paintings page (https://www.muscadomestica.co/portfolio/amulet). Amulet is the message of the Vishvavajra, and it may be a familiar enough symbol to its viewer, but I encourage further research if it resonates in hopes that perhaps you may find meaning there as I have.
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