When I see this person’s response, it makes me think of a doctor I used to work with when I was nursing. He was different from a lot of the other doctors at the hospital. You could ask him a question, and he would slow right down and sit in silence for a minute or two. Some people thought he wasn’t paying attention, but he was. He was thinking. He wouldn’t let himself be rushed. He took his time to consider things, whether he was deciding which labs to order or what diagnostic tests were needed. You would get used to his pauses. He didn’t fit the personality you might expect in that kind of setting. But what I noticed was that he made careful choices, listened to patients more than most doctors and listened to the nurses and other health care practitioners too. He earned a lot of respect and inspired people to slow down. I think he reminded people of a kind of wisdom that exists in all of us, but we need each other to remember it, to connect with these invisible mysteries and truths that are also very solid, too but can be forgotten. They have real effects on the world. His tendency was a gift for others. Anyway, I was thinking about how what I get from this comment, is a sense inspiration, of being reminded, of noticing a resonance. A slowing down. It feels like a return to something that, for many people, has been lost or forgotten because of dominant systems that look to productivity, speed, and separate us from our fullness of being. I think maybe there is a vibration, a tone that resonates a truth for this person. They recognize that this magic is real. The magic that you’re practicing in your work, and the magic you’re practising through your kind of attention. This is a remembering for them, or maybe an affirmation, through seeing it through your work. To delight in attention and beauty that comes from that.

The woods have a fiery energy, under a full moon it intensifies. The brook and forest lead to a wide river. Like every river, sacred. This one is named the Wolastoq, the beautiful and bountiful. Its energy has gravitas, the sturgeon, ancient fish, grow to great sizes. This place connects close by to that river. Old growth forest rise out of water, sleep under snow in winter. Its power can overwhelm. It is beautiful. I prayed to them for the first time, these trees, a few years ago. My answer was not soft and kind but swift, fierce and true. In Filipino culture you do not stare at trees, it is like staring at a person in public who you don’t know. You must develop a relationship with them first. You return to them. Anyway, the piece did scare me. I felt the power, like I was making a devotional object through my attention to them. And it was more powerful than I first expected. It needed time. Perhaps more trust with the trees before taking. Perhaps I need to cut some hair, as an offering. Sit below them. And ask for permission.

@Kim Santini I haven’t read the mother tree, that sounds so good—I will see if I can get it at my library! I’ve read Kimmerer, Braiding sweet grass, and there are four medicines to offer, I can’t remember all four. But tobacco, sage, and sweet grass. I will offer my hair for now, since I am cautious to practice with the other medicines without knowledge passed to me. Perhaps a land acknowledgement, actually yes, I will do that too. Thank you, you sparked that thought train! 🙌❤️

This piece and the last critique club piece with their perspectives, angles and the mirror here—a sort of construction deconstruction and in between spaces. I was inspired by them and the idea of the composition being built with the refined and unrefined areas. Loved coming into your conversation with the piece.

I love the dream like quality of these paintings and your notes on marks and experimenting. Very inspiring! The final drawing felt very powerful in its rawness.