Seeking in Black and White

My seeking began in 1986…the seeking to heal from life.   Life is a destroyer, if it is doing its job right.  If you are not being destroyed, then you truly are not loving or living life.  Being a lover of life, there was no other option but to be torn down, ripped up, and spit out.

My first round of healing was all about self-help.  I must have read every self-help, pseudo-psychology, paperback book that was created for the neurotic housewife.  You see, I believe all housewives are neurotic–who else would marry a house…puh-leeze!  I, on the other hand, had a triple dose of neurotitis–I was a single, working mother who was also a housewife.

Self-help books–well, I had moved up from the Harlequin Romances–but self-help infers that there is a broken self that needs to heal.  I wasn’t sensing that I needed fixing.  I felt like I was trying to bloom in artificial sunlight and I was being fed poison as fertilizer.  (I will have to dig out some of my poems from around this time.)

Then, after the self-help books,  I moved on to the very hefty, psychology books by noted Jungians and  Freudians. Then I moved on to the Western philosophers and that led to the feminists.  It was those brave, ground-breaking feminists who helped me travel out of my head and into my body.  Oh my, I have a body.  It is my body.  And it is good.

I learned to connect with my physical body with massage, dance, and Reiki.  This led me to the Eastern philosophers–Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Yoga–and a bridge between body, mind, and spirit was formed.

Then this led to my ‘art’.  I started doodling.  With no idea of what I was creating, my mind was quiet and only my hand knew where to put the next line.

Corvid on canvas, acrylic paint, 12x12
Corvid on canvas, acrylic paint, 12×12
Seattle Ink Drawing
San Francisto
San Francisco
Ink Drawing
Ink Drawing

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