Starting Again

Hello.


It has been a while.


Almost a year in fact, since my last blog post.


The person that wrote that post would be very surprised to learn that her future self would be here, sitting on a sheepskin rug in her cabin in Tasmania in front of the fire, at 9:30am, feeling blissfully content and finally addressing that nagging, guilty feeling that has been faithfully sitting in the back of her mind for not having written a blog post in 323 days!


There have been a number of reasons for my tardiness. Primarily, a struggle with describing, let alone marketing what I do. How could I describe it?? I didn’t want to be that annoying voice telling people they need my services…


I weave years of skill-building together with deep inner-work, lessons from all kinds of incredible teachers, traumatic experiences, epiphanies on the dance floor, and the most indescribable silence that permeates my being when it happens. How could I possibly write about it? You know what I mean... It. that feeling of complete absorption and connection when you move in sync with other humans on all levels. When we are united in artistic, personal and spiritual cause and express that to ourselves and each other in a group for the greater body of work. Or, simply and perfectly, just to play.


Some call it Flow State, others union with the divine, prayer, others say they’re just doing their job. If you’re lucky to have felt it, you’ll know that time is irrelevant in this state. It can be as malleable as clay in the hands. Not only that, you don’t even have time to check what it feels like, you’re just IN it, doing it, being it, living it!


And so, in a strong belief that I would not be able to sell this ‘thing’, this ‘state’, thrown in with some deeper layers of, ‘I’m not good at marketing’, and ‘my work is frivolous and pales in comparison to the problem of our dying planet’…etc, I put this writing off... For 46 weeks.


But now I realise, I don’t have to sell it! That's not what this is about. I simply want to capture and reflect on the beauty I am experiencing with this kind of deep play.


There is so much fear, dread, grief and anger to feel with the stories that penetrate us daily in the world. Before now, I didn’t want to join or add to that constant stream. I felt that my voice wouldn’t do anything to help. Now, I am undeniably won over by the magic of Art and know the necessity of sharing it far and wide.


Somewhere in you, maybe quite close to the surface or all the way to your bones, you know that stories are contagious and contain in them seeds for all kinds of growth, learning and wisdom.


So, I am here, now, writing to you. I am emerging fully from my cocoon to share more writing with whoever wants to read it.


And to the voice in my head that has held me back until now I say, it is not personal! By doing my best and pursuing my art with rigour and passion, I am demonstrating what humans are capable of, not putting a sign above my head saying, ‘look at me!’.


By showing up for what I love, I hope to inspire others to do the same.


Everyone is an artist!


As a parting gift, a poem by David Whyte.


Yours in Art,

Georgia



Everything is Waiting for You


Your great mistake is to act the drama

as if you were alone. As if life

were a progressive and cunning crime

with no witness to the tiny hidden

transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny

the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

out your solo voice. You must note

the way the soap dish enables you,

or the window latch grants you freedom.

Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

The stairs are your mentor of things

to come, the doors have always been there

to frighten you and invite you,

and the tiny speaker in the phone

is your dream-ladder to divinity.


Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the

conversation. The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last. All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves. Everything is waiting for you.




19 May, 2021

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