COMING HOME ART SERIES: “Where I Begin and You End”

Where I Begin

and You End

Background

During the days leading up to July 25th, the reoccurring theme was focused on my inner child, on my deepest wound resurfacing. It’s not surprising as Mercury had stationed direct after being retrograde from June 17-July 12th in the sign of Cancer.

Before the actual retrograde period, we experienced a set of eclipses, the first Full Moon lunar eclipse since 2013 in the sign of Sagittarius and New Moon solar eclipse in Cancer at 0°. These two facts probably don’t strike any significance to you, but any eclipse we have is transformative. These are especially so. The New Moon solar eclipse in Cancer at 0° , the degree representing the purest sense of that sign (in Astrology, each degree is also ruled by a sign) called for us to have a second New Moon in Cancer at 28°, a Cancer degree , a month later. Our emotions, inner-most needs for comfort and nurturing, were called for review.

With both of these influences happening at once, I was doing my best to stay afloat. Keep my head above water, as most of us were three-months since our big slowdown in March and the civil unrest all over our country from the senseless murder of George Floyd and countless others before and after him.

THE PROCESS

On July 25th, I had a profound dream with my grandmother who I am estranged from at this moment in time in regards to my childhood history of abuse. I wrote about the dream and the feelings that flowed as I wrote the details I had remembered down.

With those feelings and thoughts marinating, it eventually led to me beginning this painting. It is only right that in order for me to tell you the process of this particular piece that I also share the dream with you first.

Side note: my grandmother is a retired teacher and speech pathologist.

“I had a dream with my grandma. It was brief, but she gave me a packet of worksheets to do and she was kind of secretive about giving it to me. She came over and asked to see one sheet in particular.

Then, she said to me,

‘You know one thing they hate about us (Black people), that we don’t ever rest.’

She also said I should rest when they aren’t looking because I need the energy, but not to let up.

This is actual advice I would’ve loved to hear from her… All the sacrifices she’s made for her family, for the betterment of her family and she just leaves without notice, doesn’t fight to keep connected to her daughter and grand daughter and choosing only her daughter (my aunt) and grandchild (my cousin)… this shit doesn’t make sense. She lost her two sons, a daughter, her mother, her sister and she is still alive… I can only think she is numbed out from the medications because a warrior stops at nothing. I know she’s older, but c’mon! “

There’s a lot going on in this entry, but my aunt and grandmother moved away after I told my mother the truth about what happened to me as a kid. The connection was cut, no communication to try to resolve it for the past two years. My mom and I did find them and traveled there to see if my mom could speak to her mother, my grandmother, but that ended with more avoidance.

So with these emotions: anger, repressed rage, sadness, shame, guilt, confusion, and rejection, I felt compelled to pull out one of the canvases I recently purchased and began the process.

July 25, 2020 9:12PM:

“I just painted on a canvas and created an abstract interpretation of what I was feeling as a few songs from my childhood came on Apple Music.

“Blurry” by Puddle of Mudd, “Tourniquet” by Evanescense and “Harder To Breathe” by Maroon 5 were a few I can recall that came on. I allowed myself to just flow with it.

I did hit a point of uncertainty as I started to layer paint onto the sage green background. I started to add little dots of neon yellow, but decided that I didn’t want anything “delicate” on it. I took some white and started thrusting across the canvas with lines crashing against the calm, soothing backdrop.

After, I added a few drops, little strokes of blue and yellow— the blue for tears, the yellow for “gold” —sadness, but abundance. I then added broad blue strokes sprouting from the sides of the canvas, barriers, boundaries, limitations. Then, I added more white strokes here and there to break through the blue strokes, cutting through like a knife or lightning rather.

I put a small puddle on the bottom, collecting the tears and abundance. To finish it off, I brought in aggressive , powerful yet vibrant and protective red-orange strokes. They end up being less aggressive towards the end, a sense of release and presence of ownership, reclamation.”

The title for this piece was inspired by a book recommended on “The Sugar Jar Podcast” episode with Nedra Tawwab where she and Yasmine Cheyenne speak about childhood trauma, boundaries and healing from those traumas. In the episode, Nedra shares books listeners can read to work on unpacking the layers of childhood trauma and learn how to enforce proper boundaries as an adult.

The book that caught my ear was, “Boundaries: Where You End And I Begin- How To Recognize And Set Healthy Boundaries” by Anne Katherine, a licensed therapist. The title of the book just made sense to me. That’s what was being translated: boundaries. I was releasing those feelings onto the canvas instead of repressing them.

I was enforcing a necessary boundary with myself so I could process in a healthy way.

In the moment, I knew I was painting as a way to connect with my inner-child and express myself, but I didn’t fully connect that this is essentially what the process of Art Therapy can look like. I’m really happy I recorded the process because each stroke held all the emotions I had felt and each color translated it perfectly.

Thank you for reading.