Writings and Ramblings
Date: April 21st
Location: Leadville
I want to think about my need to be in motion, to work through it. Even if it's just a drive and I'll end up right back at home, I'm happiest seeing new things, or even visiting old places that I love. I prefer driving to taking a hike. It's the landscapes that call to me. I love the clouds, the landmarks, and finding random historic plaques. Travel feels like change. It also feels like a way to orient myself in place. My car is a compass directing me to know myself better and to know my place better.
I know myself in relation to the land. And the land offers itself to be known, loved, cared for, witnessed. To be loved, cared for, but most of all I want to be witnessed too, known.
In a way, witnessing is in my blood. My grandmother's side of the family are Jehovah's Witnesses. My mom even attended services at Kingdom Hall before I was born. The connection is there. I don't proselytize for a theology but maybe through my art practice and through sharing my lived experiences in the world, I'm attempting to recruit people to my way of seeing the land?
I don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be understood, to have others see things the way you see them.
My witnessing is gentle. I’m placing my hand out, full of seeds, waiting to see who comes to accept the offering.
White-crowned Sparrow: The sparrows call to one another in the bushes in front of my apartment. Chirp, Trill, Whistle.
Til next time ... Finley.