Last night I awoke in the middle of the night with a vision. I dreamt that I was going surfing, alone. I went down to the water, where I saw old friends who were going separate ways from me. And then, I saw members of my family. When I saw them, I did not know their names. I struggled to introduce them to the people around me. I could not recognize them. It was a disconcerting feeling; I felt that I did not know myself.
Alone with the Alone
When I awoke from my dream, I was relieved. I was overcome with a feeling of connection and gratitude for all of the people in my life who have made me who I am. I was struck by the visage of every branch of my family tree, all of the converging lineages who have allowed me to be here and lent part of their identity for me to exist. Every sensation of connection I have felt to this coast, to this land, is an echo of a feeling which was held once, somewhere, by one of my relatives or ancestors.
My art is born in the spirit of community. The land and the ocean recurve inward in a knot which ties us all together, inseparable from one another. It is my hope that these visions projected onto paper – much like the visions projected onto cave walls by our eldest ancestors – can be a celebration of communion, and in so doing become small magical charms invoking a healthier future for us all.
I hope to see you out there, where the land meets the sea, and to recognize you and know your name when I do.
First salutations to the stars.
Thanks to all relatives and ancestors.
May all beings be happy and free.