715a 17 may 2023
“I dream of who I am outside of capitalism.”
Maybe an odd statement coming from someone who sells their work, from a person who is trying to make a living, selling her work.
It has never been about the selling of the work. Not ever.
It has always been about the making of the work. I have found as perfect an outlet as I can for the noise the absolute noise and froth that fills me completely. My art, my writing. This is where it goes.
I don’t have a choice as to the making of the things. I have to. I have to work I have to work on my work. It is only by doing so that there becomes enough open space inside for me to breathe.
All of the processing, all of the talking, all of the telling of my story, all of the spiraling and twisting and understanding the eventual understanding the light bulb the eureka the oh!
I pour myself into my work have been pouring myself into my work my entire life.
It is such a generous thing.
It allows me creation.
It takes on all of the energy all of that focused energy
Transforms, transformative, that focused energy.
It allows me to assess and reassess my progress in a purely physical way
Allows me to follow my mind on what has been Becoming a more steady way, a surer way
A more intentional way.
I see the evolution in my work as I see the evolution in my self.
That is how I defend my work.
That is how I know it is good.
It has taken everything I have and has survived.