Looking Closer

Looking closer, original pastel

She wears a sort of Zinnia in her hair and mingles with a sunflower with boundary issues…

I read an article about colonialism and its effect on how people of color do or don’t connect with nature.  It resonated with me as a person of color, as a woman, and both together. I particular,  I felt the cost of separation and the joy of reconciliation as I’ve rediscovered my nature-loving self. 

I’m remembering when I began to realize that black girls don’t like to get our hair wet – a mix of shaming and not wanting to put in more hours of styling, before it’s time. Girls don’t like to sweat or get dirty – a mix of fear of our own raw power and being caught unprepared for our prince.  These weren’t consistent with my experiences as a little girl playing in sprinklers or squishing ants between my fingers,  but at some point it felt like it was time to trade my freedom for my worthiness. Worthiness as a woman-in-the-making and the roles that that woman should embody.

But then there is now. I can’t help but to look closer, to get wet and sink my toes in the dirt.  Separation from nature is separation from Source and Self, in no particular order. Reconnecting with nature is reconnecting with knowing,  intuition,  and creativity. 

Getting right with God or Soft-bellied, shameless, rich, warm desire

I can write if I get up early enough,  awakened by my stuffy nose and a cough that shakes my whole being.

I’m remembering my old churchy days and how we were “getting right with God.” We were fixing our soul flaws. We were boiling and praying away desire and depth to reveal something empty and pure… becoming vessels to be filled from the outside.

And awake since,  4am, I’m aware that nothing is more pure than desire.

God can handle desire.  I think it’s “us” who can’t handle the soft-bellied nature of desire. Desire gets churched away. She gets govermented away.  She gets lady-liked away.

It’s disconcerting how desire is both vulnerable and powerful.  Desire is purple dust falling from the center of a lily. It’s frightening how desire flickers a hot flame right in the center of you. Desire is an open flower.  Desire is shameless, and rich,  and warm.

And they shall be given over to their obsessions

Gray splotches. (Inspired by my son’s stellar color mixing on cardboard.)

Turquoise.

Spots.

Peach.

Face 2. Available for purchase.

 

Antiquing.  (A new obsession.)

The smell of raw wood.  

Lipgloss when I’m feeling anxious or need to be able to think clearly.  These go hand in hand for me.Back at that old church I mentioned a couple of posts ago, we read the King James version of the Bible (holieth coweth!)  In the Old Testament, God would sort of threaten that the people who were misbehaving would be given over to their sins or something to that effect.  In essence, that’d be handed over to whatever was carrying them away. That wasn’t a good thing.

And yet, when I’m deep in my obsessions, I feel carried away and so alive.  When I’m at a certain point in a piece, I ask myself “What are you obsessed with?”  If I don’t see it in the piece, it seems to lack depth and emotion.  I’ve ruined pieces that way too, ha!  But was it creativity without ruining a piece or many?

When I’m in that juicy, obsessed place, I think I’m “given over to my obsessions.”  And I giggle, because there is a part of me that is so terrible.  I really like that part of me 😀

 

Fixing women and exorcism (Hey! That sort of rhymes!)

 

Back in the day I went to a church where women couldn’t cut their hair (and straight was preferred if yours was of the kinky/tightly curled variety.)  We weren’t allowed to wear pants in the church and little or no make up as well.  I think it used to be no make up, but then they figured that God likes a pretty face with a nice glow, ha! (I should also mention that I found this place on my own.  It wasn’t my upbringing.)

What was I doing there?  Looking for belonging?  redemption?  exorcism?  Yes.

 

This place offered it all willingly.  There was a lot of work to do, for women in particular.  We had to watch the length of our skirts and wait for a husband.  We had to learn to shut our mouths and smile at the sexually harassing deacons who were just boys being boys.  Only they weren’t boys.  That was about 20 years ago now…another lifetime…

Only, just a couple of weeks ago, I got an email from a list I’m on.  The writer realized that she needed to feel pretty and she has a friend who offers that service.  That’s fine.  I won’t even ask why we’re not questioning a system where  any woman would have to experience not feeling pretty.  The thing is, I didn’t subscribe to fix my pretty.

And then this nice-enough guy has come up with a plan for a woman to get the guy she wants. Maybe it works.  I just don’t know how fixing a woman fixes a commitment-phobic guy.  Can I get an, “Amen?”  I’ll totally give myself one on that. (For the record, I don’t think guys as a whole are commitment-phobes. I married one such man and I lurve him dearly.)

And where between pretty and winning over a commitment-phobe does a woman go to learn her own truth?  Luckily it lives in her.  Like right about here ❤ don’t you think?

(Truth is available for purchase at www.jenniferpricedavis.com/store)

 

Melt into the discomfort

My guide le frog, mini-mixed media collage, JENNIFER

It isn’t that I can’t sleep.  I’m just not sleep yet and it’s getting late enough that I’ll feel this tomorrow.

I’m thinking about the moment — surrendering to the moment, that is.  My moment is uncomfortable to put it mildly. My mister and I are maturing as people (which is nice), growing into our individual purpose (which feels like being a teenager again), and managing a little money that has to cover a lot of things (which is what it is.)

All of this has to happen like this.

Tonight I need to declare my surrender and trust in the universe.  And so I declare it with open hands and a trusting heart.  I release my plans and expectations.  I feel a little nervous because I prefer not to get another knock on the ass, but I trust.

I trust.

I trust.

Are you in an uncomfortable moment?  

Can you melt into it?

Love,

Jen

I’m hungry

Art Journal Page, JENNIFER

I wrote this in my journal and surprised myself:  I’m hungry.  

It was a written conversation with God and all sorts of stuff spilled out.

When you’re a woman, you learn early that being hungry is not okay.  To have an appetite — to unashamedly consume what you desire — is not feminine.

Do I need to tell you about the two boys who teased me for going for seconds when I was 10?  Yes I need to, because it happened and it’s when I began to learn that there was shame in being a hungry female.  I learned that  girls aren’t supposed to want more and it was a boy’s job to put her in her place (or maybe keep her out of theirs — the place where there was free and unquestioned access to satisfaction.)

I’ll never forget that moment because it was also the first time I remember overeating.  I ate more when I got home because I was so ashamed and confused.  I ended up puking my guts out that night.

But I’m here now…28 years later.  28 years later, declaring my hunger!  (Can I get a hell yeah!?)

I love the words — hunger, hungry.  There’s a danger there.  I wonder if a hungry woman is scary.  To whom? How much will she consume? What if she gets full? Nourished?

I had to sit and breathe it out “Nour-ishhh-ed.”

A nourished woman is gorgeously dangerous.  Let go of that apple cart, because it will most certainly be upset.

Nourished.

Fed.

Having enough.

An abundance of all the best and most delicious.

Choice.

Space.

Time.

Color.

Money.

Sex.

Food.

Eye contact.

Touches that send shivers down my spine.

Grass between my toes.

Music.

Badass hair.

Those shoes.

That book.

Chai and girlfriends.

Saying no.

Saying yes.

I did it because I want to.

Curling up in cozy covers and calling it a night.

Gentle beginnings the next day.

I love my hungers.  

Are you hungry?

A wipe of my mouth with the back of my hand and a toast to being filled to full.

Love,

Jen

The cosmic shake down?: Open talk on the advice to spend money to manifest money, pt. 1

Let’s have an open talk on the advice to spend money to manifest money.

It sounds like a cosmic shake down to me:  You want — really need — some cash?  Watcha gonna give?  Who’s book on money magic are ya gonna buy? And then, you better spend it out of the right place in your heart, because if you’re giving to get, then you’re out of luck and that $10 investment in your financial well-being.  Universe Dearest, is that you?

Where’s the right place in your heart when your back is against the wall and you’re feeling the squeeze of not having enough? Or maybe you have enough to live, but not enough to pursue your dreams and a blind leap ain’t an option right now.

And just to be fair, that advice isn’t limited to us liberal, woo, new age-y types.  I spent a lot of my 20’s in some wild churches.  (I know…you don’t hear that a lot about the 20’s do you?!) Preachers encouraged attendees to jump up and down three times, give $50 to the building fund, write checks equaling the amount of their need… It’s all of bad financial advice with the promise that God will respond with buckets of cash if you just get it right.  That getting it right part absolves the guru of any responsibility and places it square in your failed-to-give-from-the-right-place heart. When money doesn’t show up, it feels like God/the Universe is playing games with your heart. You’re left wondering what went wrong or where the malice in your heart is that is causing the block to your financial flow.

You know what: There’s nothing wrong with your heart and there isn’t a game in the cosmos.  Stop giving/spending cash you don’t have. 

That’s not just bad spiritual practice, it’s terrible money advice.  You can’t give from a depleted source…it only creates more lack among other problems.

Instead of giving what you don’t have, start with giving yourself and your higher power the truth about how you’re feeling about your financial situation.

• Go to the space in your body where you hold your tension.
• Pull the cover off your feelings — your shame, your fear, your anger…whatever is in there.
• Open it all up.
• Pour it all out…write it, pray, speak it…however you do your thing.

You can handle it. God can handle it.

Clearing out the junk clears the block and opens you up to flow.  

As you open up, you’ll find that you’re guided in how you give of yourself and your money.  You’ll get clarity (and keep getting clarity) on the root of your money issues.  You’ll be guided in what books or other resources will help you create and manage your money, rather than spending money in search of magic. You’ll find that money itself begins to flow toward you instead of rushing away…which is how you feel when you’re pockets are hurtin’. 

I want to stop here for now.  There are some weeds in the yard that are calling my name and I want to let this sit for a minute.

What are your thoughts/experiences on manifesting money?

I’d love to hear from you!

Peace, love and abundance to you,

Jen

God can handle it or Death to/by affirmations

Reach, Acrylic & Sharpie on encyclopedia page, JENNIFER

Affirmations sort of suck don’t they?  I love a nice quote or encouraging thought, but there’s something about affirmations that feel like putting a band-aid over a gaping hole.  You can slap a whole box of band-aids over a gaping hole and there’s still a deep and wide gaping hole.

Who are affirmations for anyway?

They’re for you and me, I suppose, certainly not God/the Universe.

I’m fully convinced that God can handle your deepest, darkest, and stickiest heart and soul gunk.

In fact, I’m certain of it.  I’m also certain that you won’t get kicked out, explode, or disintegrate by expressing what’s inside of you on paper, in prayer, in your art, in sighs, tears…however it comes out.  The Universe isn’t the harsh parent, or the teacher looking at you over her glasses…and you are not the bad child.  You are loved, safe, and seen.

And while I’m being bodaciously bold, I would add that whatever an affirmation can do, being open with your soul can do it better.

Love and peace to you!

Jen

 

Unapologetically faithless and faith-filled

Sometimes I wish I were an atheist. Sometimes I find trying to understand God/the Universe and how s/he operates exhausting and irrational.  I don’t always get the cold silence in the face of trouble and tragedy.  “Karma will get them” isn’t enough to soothe my hurt and anger.  I don’t always get how a lost child is never found, but I find my missing fingernail polish, when I know that the universe is abundant and there is energy for both to happen.  Plus, if we have to choose, I’d rather find the child unharmed, then my Mint #218 A.

The the unchanging and just God, the friendly Universe, can be so unpredictable and life so unfair. 

There other times when I have no doubt that there is a friendly presence.  Even if things are falling apart, there’s a deep, divine knowing that something beautiful is unfolding. I see the beauty in everything around me and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.  I witness kindness — big and small, in-person or reported in the news. I feel hopeful and connected.

This is my faith.  I am both faithless and faith-filled. I’m not sorry about it and I think God can handle it.

Amen.

Love and peace,

Jen

Looking for God II: Dreams, shame, paint splatters and separation

Understanding People, Acrylic on canvas, JENNIFER

Last night I dreamt that someone called the animal protective league, accusing us of mistreating our very loved and pampered dog.  In the dream, there was a knock at the door.  I looked out the peep hole to see at least 20-30 people, including a news crew.  I was humiliated.  We took a moment to straighten the house, since we’d be on the news, and let the agent and her people in.

They looked around our modestly decorated home, and I felt so afraid of being judged.  I was afraid they’d see some imperfection that I missed.  They checked out our dog, who was affectionate and happy. They told us that they knew all along that the allegations were false.

This dream was about shame and the fear of being exposed, even when there’s nothing to expose. It’s that thing that most of us has about being exposed as a fraud.

A post ago, I shared that my heart told me it was looking for God.  When I heard “God,” I thought of rules, sacred texts, and rituals.  Hellooooo resistance. But when I feel God/where I find God, is in the splatter or even calculated placement of paint that makes me feel — not only in my own work — in all work that moves me.  It’s the miracle of the empty space that creates the thing that moves me to tears — God is in the empty space.  It’s an amazing harmony or the wailing of a guitar.  I feel God in leopard print shoes and a badass haircut. God is in a long walk and purple flowers that take my fucking breath away.  God is in my terrible language.  Oh there are so many other places and ways that I connect with God.

When I’m connected to God, I am connected to abundance…I have plenty and I can give.

When I’m faking…covered in a cloak of shame for who I am…that’s separation from God.  Separation brings an emptiness and hunger that’s depleting.  Depletion is separation from God. Depletion makes you selfish and greedy, because no matter how much you appear to have, you are insatiably hungry to the soul.

And so I’m praying for more connection, for you and for me.  I am sending out energy for us to be full to overflowing. Overflowing.  Abundant.  Giving.

Where do you feel/find God?

Peace and so much love to you!

Jen