there is something about the sky - oh the sky, so distant and so close, so encompassing

we all share a feeling when we see sky, we feel small, we feel solid, like a pebble in an abyss

but then another feeling comes, like a wave, a feeling that you are peering into exactly what you are; you are the abyss, suspended water, expansive blue

 

when I was in Ireland reading about clouds, they carried my heart away, and I made a performance in which I asked my audience to imagine, for a moment, they were clouds, and to think of all the ways they have felt like clouds, and to think about their perception of clouds and how it had changed, had evolved with their perception of the world

I feel so full when I focus on the sky, and at the same time I feel like a shell

I take pictures and videos obsessively, with the intention of compiling an unbearably long video years down the line, of just clouds, fast and slow, thick and thin, simply existing in the moment, in rapid flux

 

I am sky as much as I am ground - I am unfixed; boundless

My hands keep finding this shape - I sat one morning as a visitor in a Friend's meeting, my hands finding their way back to this infinite cloth in silent worship. These drawings are a form of meditation, a series of lines, counting to nine over and over, making individual parts and creating a whole. There is endless meaning in the making, in the finishing, in watching a friend follow the loop with their finger and forgetting where they began by the time they make it around.

While sitting in silence that day I thought of meditation and worship, the former which I was raised on, and the latter which has felt so foreign, but I thought how they aren't different at all - I have only imagined them so. I thought about getting lost in the cloth, in the maze, in the symbol that permeates all human time, from the most ancient technology to our current binary. On and off, twisting and turning, I feel lost in the loop, heating and cooling, so stuck in a haze of color I am incapable of seeing outside of my immediacy. I feel adrift in the ocean of my life, and imagine a future version of myself, looking down and making perfect sense of everything.
My hands keep finding this shape, and I remember the capacity of form, of color, of line, to say more than I ever could