Reconnecting with Our Wildness
Original Watercolor paintings on Yupo paper.
(Best experienced on desktop.)Part 1: A journey through the canyon.
I recognize the ladder
no matter what form it takes.
There is no right side up or upside down, it’s an illusion that the ladder only goes in one direction.
Up isn’t always better than down, it’s just the same difference.
You know what your canyon is.
You know where your canyon is.
To climb the ladder means to leave something behind.
You can’t be in two places at once, apart, you need to stay together.
A single river. A single path. A single power.
The Ladder into the Canyon
The Past Looks to the Future Looks to the Past
How will the wolf survive
Nothing is ever finished.
Sometimes we have to backtrack
to find the right path.
How you blend into the landscape
or stand proud in the knowledge that
you will never be finished.
We will never reach the end, we will
never stop growing
our connection
keeps flowing
with the clouds across the horizon
the rivers beneath our feet
From far enough away
everything is grey but
here, from here
it’s still green.
Maybe if I can fall far enough
and hard enough
I can shatter into
enough pieces to go
around.
Just leave me the space
where I hit
let me make an impact.
Straining, reaching for a distance
too distant, pacing at the edge
waiting for someone to say it’s
okay, to tell you where to go
what to do,
because you’ve always been told
what to do and it’s easiest to do
as you’re told
sacrificing curiosity for certainty,
bravery for security, dreams
for the reality you were told to have.
At the Threshold
The Canyons,
no. 1-4
There is life and movement in the darkness.
Breathing into our shadows to let the light bleed through.
And when we find them the shadows aren’t threatening, they are welcoming.
And patient.
The shadows aren’t permanent,
they are always shifting.
The waters break through, swirling
soft grains of ochre pigment
through shadowy grey.
Light breaking in with staccato
pulses
Pulses cracking and reverberating static
through your bones.
There is structure even if the
surface always changes.
There is support when the ground
shakes and shatters.
Mountain ranges can fall, valleys
can rise, but the individual grains
remain unchanged.
When we lose sight of the trail, we follow the river.
When the river runs dry, the canyon shows us the way.
The Running Wolves, no.1 & 2
You can't run away from yourself.
The whispers will always be there,
streaks of soft blue like memories
like tracks in the snow.
The darkness isn't empty, it explodes
with possibilities.
There is a glow when you look for it,
the spark of the pilot light ready
to burst into flame.
It's time to rise again from the ashes.
It's time to come out of your cave, and let the light
carve your form from the dark.
Are you running to or running from?
When do you get to stop running?
When do you decide to stop running?
Did you fall so far that you were afraid
to climb back up again?
There’s so much resistance when you
run against the wind, fight
against the current.
The ocean is cold but you are colder.