Dangerous Compassions

sometimes a truth becomes a burden


Hello!  How are you doing?  Sometimes people read one of my zines that’s a few years old, and they make the mistake of thinking all that stuff is still true.  If you read something, it might not be true anymore.  The reason I say anything can be that I need to say it, then lay it down.  Sometimes a truth becomes a burden.

If I write it, I don’t need to think it anymore.  I don’t need to track it anymore, carefully keeping it on some huge magic swirling whiteboard in motion in my head.  I don’t need to live it anymore, maybe.

Some people think if an idea is written down, it’s more set in stone, reliable like a vow.  But when I write something down, it can be less pertinent.

I don’t want to say it’s less real, because it’s real when I say it.  But once I write it down, the idea becomes more separate from me.  I become more free.

That’s what I mean when I say that sometimes a truth becomes a burden.  Once I’m no longer carrying it, I’m more free to change.

writing as spiritual practice

That’s a good example of how my writing (and all my art making) is spiritual practice.  They were never to make money, get recognition, be considered valid, or find power.  Always, art and writing have been to connect and to express deep truths as I’m compelled.  I want to make something that looks beautiful to me.  But mostly I like to say something I actually need to say.

I’m pulling truth from deep inside me.  Deep inside me there is a pocket of the other world.  Some could consider it God.  Whatever it is, there’s where my art comes from.  Thank you for seeing what matters most to me.

art show

I’m getting ready for an art show at a library–my first.  “Seems serious!” I told my housemates in a meeting.  We laughed.

I’m excited about it.  Doing the ofrenda last year for Day of the Dead was like an art show.  And I’ve had zines in shows.  But this is my first time having a show of my own.

As I gather embroidery, mixed media, and zines, I notice the themes and symbolism in the work.  Looks weird and witchy.  Taken together, there’s some sense of how I feel the world.  I love it!

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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