Agiasmos

About a year back I told my therapist I had a vision of me and my boys moving to a small house on a creek with lots of land and trees.  The indoors and outdoors would feel little distinction.  

Windows open.

Screen doors unlocked, the drum beat of their closures keeping rhythm for our days. (Their only real purpose: to keep mosquitos out) 

Trees holding shade for our meals and tension for our hammocks; combining with the wind for all our air conditioning needs.

And to be honest, this is my dream life.  

Simplicity.

Time and space to just be.

I am legally bound to stay in more crowded areas of the state (in Minnesota it’s all relative), but the dream lives on.  

BUT I’ve become a believer that our dreams aren’t for our future selves, but for our present ones.  They tell us what we need NOW.  Let our future dreams tell us what our future selves need.  Pay attention to what your body is saying to you in the moment.  

This being said, it’s no surprise that I have wanted to get to the creek a few blocks from me to take self-portraits.  If I can’t live next to one, I sure can photograph myself in one. 

But to be honest, I have not done much self-portraiture out in the wild.  Going by myself to a public space and setting up my gear and acting out my inner world is a scary thing.  I can only imagine how dumb I look when I’m taking self-portraits, and I’d prefer to keep that view of me a secret to everyone.  

I’ll show you the still moments that turn out. But the live action version?  Nah.  No one needs that.  

Except I needed to do it.  

I needed to get out and express my story and emotions in a way that could be captured on film and shared with others. 

And you know what?  I’m kind of a hypocrite. (if we’re honest, aren’t we all?) When I taught my first run of the self-portrait workshop, I had members say they wanted to get outside to do portraits but were scared.  

So of course I said, “that means you NEEEEED to get out and take those images!!!!!”

Because I’m a big believer in doing things scared. And oftentimes our fear is pointing us exactly where we need to go.

And yet, I had not even done my own self-portraits in the wild.  Not really. 

(It’s important for me to underscore a caveat: our fear that points us to freedom is fear to push through. Our fear that wants to cover up our shame is fear to quiet down.)

July’s prompt in The Artist’s Collab is a piece from Pacita Abad, an artist you’ve probably never even heard of, but you should.  I visited her gallery at the Walker Art Center last month and fell in love with her.  

Not just with her art, but with HER. 

See, she lived life Unapologetically Pacita.  She was a maximalist in the age of minimalist art.  She took traditional “crafts” and had the audacity (my word of the year!) to present them as fine art.  She infused art in everything (EVERYTHING!) around her.

She was so genuinely, truly, authentically herself.  She gave zero effs.  And I want to give zero effs too. 

Her entire way of navigating the world has been at the fore ever since deciding she HAD to be our artist this month.  So when I told a friend I had been wanting to take self-portraits at the creek for some time now and he said “DO IT!”, that was all the impetus I needed to stop at the creek on my way home.  

You know, just to scout it out????? 

But fortunately,  I have NO CHILL EVER, so I went home immediately after finding my perfect entry point into the creek because I just had to take the darn photos right then and there.  

So I grabbed my gear, went back, and shot through a roll. It was a little awkward and clumsy (as I find self-portraits to be) but when I was done, something in me had changed.  

That little photoshoot baptized me into a new life.  One that allows me to accept myself for all my idiosyncrasies, quirks, and off-the-beaten-path ideas. 

Death to expectations and boxes.

Alive to freedom. 

I marked my new self in the proper modern day fashion (with an Instagram Story or two or three) and I got more reactions, responses, and DMs than I think I ever have on a Story.  

Turns out you all like Self-Portrait Amy in the wild too. 

I mean, what you’ve really been supportive of is my steps toward living life as the freest and me-est me I can be.  (truly. And I thank you for that. Because every comment and message gives me fuel)

But what you wouldn’t know is that the shift inside that happened that evening is, to paraphrase Michael Scott, inclaculable. So I am telling you now.  

My dream of living near a creek to roam the land and be in touch with nature?  It’s really just a dream to live outside the boxes that had been placed around me.  And I am doing it in my own way.  I am doing it to the fullest extent I can NOW instead of leaving dreams for the future. (A future isn’t ever guaranteed anyway, so why would we save the good things?)

Clearly that creek was more than just a creek and that photoshoot was more than just a photoshoot (duh. Because everything is about everything.) And because I did the uncomfortable thing and went for it, I am officially the freest and me-est me I have ever been.  Like, in my whole life.  And we’re just getting going. 

Agiasmos, 2023 | embroidery on printed film image

If you’re needing a push to create even, and especially, when it’s not naturally flowing out of you, I highly recommend The Art Lab.

My own testimonial is that I have not felt creative for basically all of 2023. But The Art Lab encouragement and accountability have kept me going and doing things I absolutely would NOT have done otherwise.

And goodness every time I make even a sliver of time to create, it feels so good.

This creek session (and embroidery piece) wouldn’t have happened without The Art Lab and it was actual freedom.