For the first time on this journey, we returned to a place. On our stay here a couple of weeks prior – at our presentation in the Temple, in fact – a connection was made. It was this connection that brought us back to Chattanooga, to the Willy Wonka-esque Creative Discovery Museum. On the first day, scores of guests were invited to become active participants in the project, getting yarn hearts to go and mark their spots of significance with. We asked each participant to describe what this Museum meant to them, in one word. On the second day, we returned and created a mural encompassing these words, in the form of a crossword puzzle centered around a phrase. Be here now. A phrase that not just symbolizes the essence of this mural, a tangible art manifestation of life passing a specific place at a specific time, but also the base notion of the entire Mind the Heart! mission to promote and induce mindfulness. Be present. Be aware. Be. It’s also a summation of the most wondrous part of being a child – a state of mind of being in the now, completely engrossed in what you do/build/play with/imagine. We couldn’t envision a more perfect setting and context for all of the above.
For a week in late September, in mostly sympathetic weather, we created this large mural right at the city square of Decatur, GA. Our hosts -an exceptional dance group and powerful Amazonian tribe called CORE. Here is a poem and text we wrote to accompany it:
You develop a sense of self,
you define your borders,
you defend the land.
But it’s only when you let others in and let yourself out,
when you embrace the fear that is inherent in connection,
it is only then that you can truly be”.
Human connection is at the core of our being. The word ‘being’ itself encapsulates a life cycle – You come into this world (be). You define your own self (be I). But it’s only through connection, through becoming a part of something bigger than yourself (be in), that you can truly be (being). The Black Birds encompass a duality: a tension between the pulling force of the ground and the endless promise of the open sky. Our history, our past, our roots can all be sources of great strength or chains that hold us back. But the birds and their ‘chains’ are made of the same, soft material. That which can unravel them, also grants them wings. If they choose to fly high enough for long enough, they will unravel the tangle and get all the thread they need. If they so choose, they’ll be free. Lastly, the building or breaking down of a word (adding or subtracting the next letter) is a conceptual act that aims to strengthen or weaken an idea, to bring something into or out of existence.
Off the recommendation of a girl from Boston whom we met at the edge of a peninsula in NH
and with a mistaken assumption that we could get breakfast here,
we arrived at this cool fermentation joint in Portland ME serving a plethora of tasty fermented liquid concoctions.
A few Saturday morning beverages later, but unconnected to that fact, we offered the guy at the bar to create a wall-piece for them.
be longing. belonging.
This is what we felt here. At that moment we felt this was just about the place, the vibe, the communal sense of it.
But looking back and writing this, I wonder if it’s not also about the two of us,
flying far from home, always staying connected to our source but always carrying on, putting faith in letting go,
belonging to the longing for the interactions and creations, always new but all connected to the one great source
from which all is drawn.
The text of this work reads: m-ma-mag-magi-magic
The building or breaking down of a word (adding or subtracting the next letter) is a conceptual act that originates from the Kabbalah and aims to strengthen or weaken a particular idea, to bring something into or out of existence.
You know those cursed corners, where businesses perpetually fail?
A seemingly perfectly situated spot on an otherwise bustling street,
where nothing succeeds and nothing lasts but boarded-up windows and crushed hopes.
One after another after another. Cafe, restaurant, shop, deli, cafe again.
Sometimes they last a year, sometimes even less.
It seems that no matter what they do and how they do it, the Curse prevails.
Each closure a broken dream and a devastated savings account.
People who were sure they would be the ones to break the cycle,
or who could care less about supposed “curses”.
We notice these spots, accept them as a wayward but intrinsic parts of the living-city-web.
Perhaps just blips, but perhaps serving some strategic purpose, unbeknownst to us,
within the urban venous system.
Either way, a little magic doesn’t hurt.
A short walk down one of the many creeks that descend, vein-like, down the Carmel Mountain. It’s the end of summer, and there’s not a drop of water to be found. Several trees have been cut down through the years, presumably to clear way for water or travelers, depending on the season. Their carcasses are laid out, sliced, presumably so other trees don’t get any ideas.
This text-construction means: tree – object/bone
(weirdly and not weirdly, in Hebrew it’s the same word).
Read about the De/Construction series in this post:
Hebrew writing is not dependent upon vowels, instead relying on punctuation –
dots & lines that give a letter sound by mere proximity.
Once you reach mid-school, though, they just drop these punctuations,
and pretty much leave you with jumbled blocks of vowel-less, dot-less letters
and trust your vocabulary to make sense of it. It’s beautiful, really.
To the point at hand – it’s thanks to this that the building blocks of words in Hebrew
can many times be words all by their own.
When you don’t need vowels, you’ve got tons of 2 and 3 letter words.
Sometimes, you can shave off a word, letter by letter,
and be left with a another, functioning word every time.
And sometimes within those sometimes, these words encapsuled in one, tell a tale.
The construction/deconstruction of this specific work we did here means:
tree – object – itself – bones
This location, Stella Maris, was once a Monastery upon the mountain top.
Today it is a naval radar base. Figuratively, in both instances,
a specific demographic could enter to serve and search for signs from the heavens.
Things renew, things move forward, things mostly stay the same.
It’s beautiful, really.