Emily Robinson and Brooke Powers.
“I still don’t have an answer as to why I love to create and I have a feeling I will never really know. It feels intuitive; like in a way, making work is practising intuition. Often when I make work I feel as though the work already exists; it’s about me scratching back the surface to reveal it.”
Tell us a little bit about yourself and your creative journey.
I started this journey as a dreamer; naive, optimistic, determined, impressionable, and in love. What I was in love with was this connection I was forming with my body. It felt like a “coming home” sensation. Being in my body helped me cultivate an awareness that I still value. I was always supported in my art - until I decided to take it seriously and wanted to make it my work, then I never stopped hearing how hard it would be. But in all honesty, I think this made me more determined. They didn’t mean “doing what you love was going to be hard”, they meant “trying to make money [would be hard]”. This is an example of the social structures and systems we live in and try to make art in. After I graduated from studying dance full-time (at VCA), I felt completely lost and spat out of an institution into a society that doesn’t really appreciate performance because there is no tangible product to consume - it is live and ephemeral. I’ve made some work, taken some workshops, residencies, seen shows, applied for grants, done class, then travelled and did all of these things again halfway across the world. It’s been an amazing, boring, confusing, enlightening and rejecting journey. I am really interested in the position of the body in the world, and the only body I can speak for is mine- white, cisgendered, queer woman. I have been the subject of homophobia and misogyny. I used to think that if I wasn’t creative I would die, but I associated that with being paid, recognition and success. Now I realise that I can still be creative, dance and make work, and no one can stop me doing that. But it doesn’t have to be for institutions I don’t care for, or for someone to say “job well done”. I don’t want to apply for the next grant just because everyone else is and it doesn’t mean I won’t be an artist all of a sudden. And until I feel I have something so urgent to say that I feel it must be said, I am more interested in supporting communities that do need a voice. I still don’t have an answer as to why I love to create and I have a feeling I will never really know. It feels intuitive; like in a way making work is practising intuition. Often when I make work I feel as though the work already exists; it’s about me scratching back the surface to reveal it.
Emily Robinson and Brooke Powers.
One of the things that strikes me about your work is a kind of democratic approach to dance, in the sense that you challenge hierarchical structures in the process of choreographing a project. What drives that approach for you?
What drives this approach is to challenge the stuck structures that are in place, not just in dance but in society. I think the thing that turns me off most about dance is that often you can feel like a physical tool to fulfill the director’s/choreographer’s desires, with not much insight into what they are doing and why. This can feel empty and dull for me. I like to consider that I use my brain as much as my body; making shapes is fun but I would like a more in-depth dialogue within and around the work. When I’m making my own work, especially in the last work I made, ‘An Alternative Route’, I was interested in how everyone can produce the work together. I had an idea that over the period of creating the work, anything that is going on in these individuals’ lives is not left at the rehearsal doors. Meaning that the performer didn’t have to be an empty vessel. In some ways I think my idea really failed, mostly because I realised that the concept of the work was my idea and asking people to contribute as much as I was and be as invested was not going to work, as it was solely my idea. I do think there is a happy medium to work with these structures, which is happening in the independent dance scene.
Emily Robinson, Vishnu Hazell, Sienna Thorton, Kathleen Campone, Brooke Powers, and Annabelle Balharry.
I’m fascinated by your exploration of people having a distinct “sound” in your recent work ‘An Alternative Route’. Can you tell me about the ways in which dance provides a language for accessing and expressing our uniqueness?
The body and dance is such a platform for providing uniqueness: no one body is the same, and if you try and get people to dance the same, you will be wasting your energy on this rather that celebrating their uniqueness. It’s a pretty obvious option for me. This “find a sound” idea came from questions such as; how is it to be heard? How does that sound beyond language that is loaded and that we understand? How can we be heard? We looked at bird calls as other ways of communicating, which is based on sound. Like language, the body can be loaded with identities and symbols and can be limited by our constructed perceptions. The sound was a way of looking at what the body produces that connects to someone beyond thought. It’s more of an empathetic response. Some responses I got from the audience were that they felt the desire and need to make those sounds, even though they had never heard them before. After that thought came emotions around not having a space to make sounds from a place of such depth and expression.
Emily Robinson.
Who and what are your muses and why?
Frida Kahlo. What I see in Frida’s works is that she really needed to make art to express what was inside of her. She wasn’t producing these works for anyone else except herself. Her work wasn’t for design or aesthetics, it was for necessity. Through her ability to be honest and authentic with her work, it became a mirror for everyone that viewed it. Her work is not protected, it is vulnerable and raw, and she gives off that there is nothing to hide. I believe that if an artist has enough self-enquiry and awareness they should be producing the work from within them, in reference to the world, but not speaking for the world. I feel that a lot of artists look externally for their inspiration rather than the stories and identities of themselves in the context of what’s around them. The idea of a self-portrait is very interesting to me, especially as we are constantly loaded with so much external information and the platform of social media-making as a reference to everyone else, instead of holding the mirror up to our own faces. I’m currently taking short videos of myself daily, questioning self-work and self-enquiry, and how they externalise or materialise.
Emily Robinson and Brooke Powers.
What advice would you give to other souls who want to explore their own unique expression?
Do it!!! Why not?!!! Don’t listen to people who tell you otherwise, in fact, unfriend them on facebook!!! Keep questioning everything that you learn. I would suggest to keep questing for and differentiating between what is your truth and what is the truth that is conditioned and learnt. From here you will have the space to connect to your uniqueness.
Performing for Boni Cairncross work at the Margret Lawrence gallery Melbourne.
Emily Robinson is a Melbourne-based dance artist/maker; her current practice is discovering what it means to have a practice, with an ongoing interest around the existence and importance of producing performance. How can performance move beyond creating an aesthetically pleasing product? Therefore questioning the importance and impermanence of the body.
Emily graduated from the Victorian College of the Arts in 2012 and is a recipient of Artstart 2015. Emily has presented works through the Ausdance Graduate program; Carriage Works- OLO, Beat around the bush, First Run (Lucy Guerin INC), Homemade Festival- Fuckit5678/ collaboration Brooke Powers (MELB), Tempting Failure (School House Studios, MELB), An Alternative Route for the Emotional Body at Pieces For Small Spaces (Lucy Guerin Inc), and is presenting a new work as part of the Fringe Festival Darebin Arts Speakeasy, titled An Alternative Route. Emily has been involved in residencies, workshops and performances nationally and internationally: MULITMODAL (Lee Serle), Pose Band (Rebecca Jensen) Keir Choreographic Awards Sarah Akien, by Sarah Akien, IfTheyAreSleepyLetThemSleep (Boni Cairncross). During 2014 and 2015 Emily travelled internationally to attend ImPuls Tanz, PAF/ Summer University/ Indigo Dance Festival, Ponderosa/ Choreographic and Performance module, the Movement Research Centre, NYC. Follow her on Instagram or check out her works on Vimeo. Show Reel 2016 from Emily Robinson on Vimeo.
+ + THE MUSE SPOKE is a mini-interview series with inspiring humans that embody soulful creative self-expression. + +
Morris Louis, Beta Lambda, 1961. "I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you, and that you will work with these stories from your life- your life- not someone else's life- water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. That is the work. The only work." Have you ever looked at your CV, and likened your list of work experience to the trail of footprints of a drunk person who is trying to walk in a straight line? That's what my CV looks like. "Ooh yes please to being a research assistant for my art history lecturer... but now I'm going to go over here and try out a marketing role in fashion... whoops- no- I actually want to work in the healthfood industry... Maybe I'll try managing a yoga/pilates studio? Hang on, I need to get back to art, I'll go work in arts management..." None of my positions have lasted for more than a year. Then there are the big gaps in time between roles. (I'm imagining said drunk person standing still for a moment to stare off into the stars and wonder how long it would take to reach Jupiter.) When I take it all in, I begin to think- "what exactly have I been doing for the past 10 years?!" Of course, this is not a particularly kind or helpful thought, but it happens anyway. In a society that still prioritises careers that travel in a linear fashion, it can be easy to feel like there's something "wrong" with you when you choose to meander off the beaten track. Not only that, you don't know where on earth you're going, no one gave you a map, and sometimes you end up getting lost and afraid. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid you might not be cut out for this mission. Afraid you'll never get to where you want to be. Detail from Ronnie Tjampitjinpa, Bushfire, 2003 "In order to write about life, first you must live it." Over the last 2 weeks I've been writing a series of instagram posts about the 9 muses of ancient greek mythology that are explored in my first mentoring program, MEET YOUR MUSE. Each muse has been assigned a different theme, which are my interpretations of their original classical identities. As I've been writing tiny snippets about what I have learned from the wisdom and guidance of these archetypes, I've started to see a patchwork of life experience emerge. Thalia, the muse of play, taught me to say yes to all those festivals that brought out my inner child, because when we play, we momentarily suspend our disbelief and give ourselves space to dream up new ways of living and creating. She allowed me to go and study courses that nourished my sense of curiosity, (instead of the ones that I knew would guarantee employment), like art history, comparative religion, Australian Indigenous studies, and creative writing. Whereas Calliope, the muse of story, helped me to sculpt a life that is based on my values of creativity, health, personal development, relationships etc. Because of these values, I've experimented with different business ventures like creating an organic tea range, collecting traditional tapa cloth from the South Pacific, developing healthfood catering services, and making a wearable art/jewellery collection. Erato, the muse of love, led me into deeply soulful relationships that have taken me from heaven to hell and back again, in order to learn how to love and let love in. She taught me the importance of communication, self-awareness, boundaries and patience. While Terpsichore, the muse of dance, showed me that if I want to make my dreams come true I need to embody them (aha, so that's why I randomly worked in a yoga/pilates studio). Tim Johnson and Nava Chapman, Walk on, 2009. "... when an old person dies, a whole library disappears." What I have been doing for the past 10 years is letting stories happen to me. I've been setting sail on expeditions to the core of my heart and soul to find golden treasures. It's had many moments of calm seas as well as its fair share of storms and shipwrecks. Sometimes it's been an immensely frustrating journey and I thought I'd never end up creating anything that resembles a tangible thing in the world. But as I look over everything I have put into this first program, I see that I actually couldn't have developed it any sooner, because I needed to live it first. I needed to try out many different things to find what lights my fire. I had to let myself steep in the nectar of life and allow it to seep into my bones so that I could create from the inside out.
As creatives, seekers, nomads and healers, I think it's really important for us to remember that while our path may look like a wiggly mess at times, we're actually weaving a personal mythology through living an anthology of stories that are important to us. We're always carrying an internal compass that has been uniquely designed to house our 'why'. So in those moments when we doubt ourselves or give ourselves a hard time for going "off-track", we just need to look inwards, remind ourselves of what we truly value, and trust that we're heading in the right direction. Perforated light box photograph by Daniele Buetti. “Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.” A couple of years ago, I wrote that I often felt like "a walking esoteric time bomb on the brink of combusting into golden matter.” In hindsight, I realise that this was essentially just a poetic way of saying I had chronic writer’s block, and repressed emotions. I’ve always been a deeply feeling human being, so curious about the inner and outer worlds. I felt like I had so much to say, and yet, when it came to expressing myself through words- whether during a discussion at a dinner party or by writing on the page- I froze. This was the result of developing a deep insecurity over time about feeling as though I had nothing of value- or anything unique- to contribute. Instead of sharing my words, I kept searching for inspiration found in others' creative expression, thinking that surely if I could just fill up my cup with enough stimulus, it would eventually overflow with ideas. I’ve brought so much beauty into my life through this process, but when the words still weren’t coming, I realised that this alone wasn’t enough. Then one day, I had a life-changing conversation with a dear friend, and she shared with me a chapter in Women who run with the wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. This tale, La Llorona, tells us that sometimes when the rivers of our creative self-expression aren’t flowing, it’s because the waters are stagnant or polluted. This rang loud bells of truth throughout my body, and led me to see that my words were all dammed up because I wasn’t acknowledging the emotional walls that were holding me back. TJ Volonis, Repaired Heart (Kintsugi Study #4), 2015, “I am broken the way most writers are, stories leaking through the cracks.” And so I embarked upon an experiment. I started my blog, and instead of trying to come up with what I thought I should write about, I just started to muse upon my own stories. I wrote about the game-changing day I was silenced by a school teacher, and about my winding path to finding my “thing”. I reflected on my most recent heartbreak and what it taught me about freedom. And I explored my inner conflict around writing ‘self-helpy’ pieces because I didn’t want to accept the more woo-woo parts of myself. As the words began to flow out of me so too did the tears. I discovered that writing is not just a way to share myself and my views with the world, it’s also an incredible tool for healing. Turns out I'm not the only person who has experienced this (shock, horror). In an article by the American Psychological Association, Writing to heal, research by psychologists James Pennebaker and Joshua Smith asserts that expressive writing's potential to ease stress also improves immune function. However, they emphasise that simply venting our frustrations or emotions through writing or talking is not enough to alleviate stress. Rather, "...to tap writing's healing power, people must use it to better understand and learn from their emotions". It's only when we utilise writing to find meaning and new perspectives in our lives that the positive effects begin to surface. Catherine Broderick, Anish Kapoor mirror sculpture. “Your job as a storyteller is not simply to entertain... Your job is to let people know that everyone shares their feelings- and that these feelings bind us. Your job is a healing art, and like all healers, you have a responsibility. Let people know they are not alone…” When we pour ourselves onto the page it becomes a kind of magic mirror... a tool for scrying into the nuances of our own being. Through its reflection we get to see those parts of ourselves that were previously hidden. It can be really difficult to make sense of our thoughts and feelings when they're swirling around like an amorphous mass in our heads. I've experienced numerous occasions where I start journalling, read back over it, and end up saying to myself, "wow, no wonder I feel overwhelmed!" In these moments, the sense of relief not only flushes out cesspools of emotion, it also somehow validates my experience and encourages more self-compassion. Some of my biggest epiphanies in life only occurred once I wrote them down. And so by mining the stories of my heart, soul and life experiences, I found that I actually have a lot to contribute- whether that be my personal answer to a universal problem or simply a question to allow others to see their reflection. I believe that we all have something unique to share, and that our stories are in fact invaluable. + + Interested in exploring your own stories? Doors are still open for my MEET YOUR MUSE 1:1 mentoring program starting in 2 weeks, check it out here.
Kalm, a surfing artist poet friend who is actually on the cusp of first-time motherhood from the series La Nature des Femmes “I believe that when a woman is turned on she creates - truth, art, children, beauty, money, and magic. I used to feel that I had to choose which of those things would come from that space, but now I know that's it's just one seamless, juicy existence down there.” Tell us a little bit about yourself and your creative journey. Ok, but warning: I tend to get super intimate and prematurely inappropriate! I have my sun and north node in leo, and although I've always written and taken photographs and worked professionally in these fields, I never really believed in myself or my gifts. So for years my projects used me as truth agents, a way to filter the harshness of the world. A way to uncover what was really happening. I documented refugees and displaced people, and was really driven to give people a voice that otherwise would go unheard. This was not only healing for those guys by raising awareness and understanding around certain social issues, but also for me, who interestingly was the one who needed to uncover their true self and find that inner sense of belonging. So creativity has always had a very healing vibe to it for me. I didn't grow up in a creative household, and unfortunately the bogans in my family didn't pick up on my passion for writing, so I did naturopathy and astrology at uni, (possibly to sort out why I felt so bad all the time?!) so all the creative stuff is self-taught or came from a quick course or workshop (I am a bit obsessed with learning new obscure skills). It was the journey into motherhood five years ago that really forced me into an authentic connection with my creativity, but funnily took away the time to do it ha. I literally took one look at my newborn kid and was like, “Oooooh, so that's love?! That's truth. Ok, there is a lot of crap I need to cull from my life.” I still had loads of self-love work to do and it took me until a year ago to leave a super toxic relationship which has allowed me to really own my power and pleasure as a woman, and where I'm at now is that my creativity is intrinsically linked to my sexuality, a very sacred, intuitive womb-like space. I believe that when a woman is turned on she creates - truth, art, children, beauty, money, and magic. I used to feel that I had to choose which of those things would come from that space, but now I know that's it's just one seamless, juicy existence down there. Milly Loveknuckles a fellow single mama artist/tattooist from the series La Nature des Femmes I love your eclectic mix of “plants, planets and storytelling” through Naturopathy, Astrology, Writing, Filmmaking and Photography. What have been some of the challenges and/or highlights around developing a multi-passionate business? The biggest challenge was making one business card! When I consolidated all my hats into herstory_collective, everything began to flow really well. Before that it was all a bit disconnected. I'd be on set shooting a documentary, chatting to a crew member casually about gut health, and they'd be like, “you're a naturopath? I thought you were a journo?” It was like I had split personality. The variety is definitely a highlight for me. Although the skills are pretty different, they all share common themes of female empowerment, environmentalism, spirituality, women's health, and sexuality. Whether it's captured with a camera, pen or workshop, the message is always the same. Bessie Baker and friend and Inma (ceremony/song/dance on the APY lands) Talk me through your take on how storytelling is medicine, and in particular how women learning and sharing stories about their femininity and sexuality is healing. There was a lot of trauma around me as a child, and from a young age I covered my bed each night with my entire collection of Golden Books, as like a protection thing, so maybe I was born with a sense that stories were medicine. The thing is that by being born female we are automatically carriers of a story that isn't particularly empowering, whether that is true in your personal family situation or not, it exists in wider society. One of the biggest stories the patriarchy loves to spin in the modern world is that women should be ashamed of their sexuality. This is slowly changing, but it wasn't always like this. In the good 'ol goddess days in most ancient cultures, women were actually worshipped for their sensuality, and the body's relationship to fertility, crop production and moon cycles. The planet prospered. I don't think it's any coincidence that when this was taken away, particularly the natural birthing traditions, that the earth began to also suffer. To reclaim these old stories that are our birthright as women, I believe we need to shed the shame around the unhealthy ones that keep us trapped in disempowered cycles. As the author and social researcher Brene Brown says, shame cannot survive vulnerability, which breeds connection, so by women opening up and sharing their shame stories around their sexuality, they are no longer held hostage by them. There is something very powerful about women gathering in circle and being witnessed by our sisters in our wounds. Apart from laughing at the ridiculousness of some of our thought patterns, we can realise that we are loved anyway, or even despite our pain, and it also encourages other women to be vulnerable and do the same, which sets up a type of galactic domino effect into the world, singing up female connection and empowerment. We realise we are not our wounds. I've very aware that the female wound of course is not limited to actual women, men are also deeply out of touch with the feminine part of themselves. Also, having worked as a social worker in indigenous communities which are often thick with generational trauma and complex social issues, both in Australia and around the world, on the many days when I hung my head in overwhelm in a dry creek bed searching desperately for solutions, sitting round a campfire yarning up and sharing story seemed to be the only way I saw healing begin. (Not the millions of dollars wasted on quick fix programs thought up by people in a faraway office, believe it or not!) From an astrological point of view, the planets are the archetypal characters that are going to play out in your unique story. How they're placed in relation to the houses, and the angles affecting them determines the plot. Besides from Lilith and Venus, there are quite a few asteroids that give indicators of feminine mythology in your chart in relation to sexuality. When I began to bring storytelling into my naturopathic sessions, I noticed major shifts in my clients' healing. Creativity is such a powerful tool as a way for women to express their true nature, and get back in touch with their natural cycles. I'm a big believer that sexually empowered women create sexually empowered relationships, communities, and an empowered earth. When you put it like that, it takes the blame and victimhood out of our pain, and you can see how it really is our own responsibility to assist the evolution of consciousness. Everyone can do something. Make art, not war! Quechua This woman walked for four hours with her sisters to share ancient weaving/dying techniques with us despite road blocks from political protestors in the Sacred Valley of Peru when my children and I were there working on a book project about pilgrimage with kids. Who and what are your muses and why? I'm one of those people who is hit by the muse. I've tried all The Artist's Way thing of training the muse to show up at the same time everyday, but mine is badass and only wants to show up unannounced at times of inconvenience. So becoming a mother has been super challenging for me, as spontaneity has taken a backseat, and I'm less able to stay up all night pondering the universe, as I'm so desperate for sleep. In saying that, my muse does not need much! There is so much damn beauty in the world, I literally only need a handful of fresh wildflowers, the breeze under my hair, leaves falling from the sky, the way the light hits a white wall. I feel it all. And to be honest, feel the frustration of having a snotty tissue in one hand and a crying child in the other and missing out on the moment. Liz Gilbert talks about an older poet she knew who worked out in the fields and would literally run as fast as she could inside the house for a pen to capture the words coming into her head. I often wish I could dump my kids and run, but mostly I am learning how to be present and trust that the muse will show up again at a more convenient time. And write on tissues. I also find beauty in heartbreak or things that others may perceive as confronting. Also: Aeroplane seatbelts. My muse loves movement. As soon as I fasten mine, I reach for my journal and the words just fly onto the page, and they do not stop until the jet lag wears off when I return, normally when I get that first glance of the kitchen sink. The lure of elsewhere has been a frustration of mine my whole life, having grown up never belonging anywhere, I think I feel like I belong everywhere, and totally froth on those spaces in between. Friends were always asking me, “yeah, but when are you going to stop this and settle somewhere?” When I travel the first question I ask is, can I live here? I used to think I was trying to run away or escape myself but these days, I've just accepted that it is part of my creative DNA; I thrive on the change. Strangers. I love those unexpected hits of intimacy that can send you into another world, one you just cant get to on your own. Mother Earth and Grandmother Moon for their magical life cycles. Lovemaking. Because in that space you are truly surrendered and trusting of the universe. Divine sacred union, cosmic bliss- aahhh I'm an incredible romantic. After connecting with a lover, I can go into a creative frenzy for seriously hours. Vulnerability. The shy teenage busker on the street, the shared smile with the old, wise homeless guy, the dude at the bank with the stutter, because I hid my true self for so long, anyone who has the courage to show themselves gets me everytime. Now I've warmed up though, I must confess, I am an emotional cliff-jumping junkie. Dance. Music cracks me wide open. Most recently Tantric Dance. Stories. They are my escape as well as my connector. Whether they be spoken in rhyme, sung, photographed or filmed. I can be completely disarmed as they seep into my bones. Of course, women. The women who came before me. The women who will come after. Any woman who is willing to rock the boat and speak up or paint her craft regardless of what anyone else thinks. Any woman who dares to love herself which these days is an act of revolution. The ancestors of this country, particularly the indigenous women that have been my teachers, and saved my life, really, with their unconditional love, wisdom and generosity in sharing sacred stories of the earth with me. The sisters that love all of me. My daughter, who is only two but already fierce, soft, intuitive, sensual, intelligent and courageous. I have a wild ride ahead of me. Maku (witchetty grub) hunting in Ernabella with Rosemary and the tjitji. What advice would you give to other souls who want to explore their own unique expression but are still working out how to go about it? Do what feels good. You'd be surprised where all the random threads lead. Start with this Regena Thomashauer exercise from her epic book Pussy by getting in touch with yourself. Literally. For 30 seconds per day place your hands on your womb space and ask her how she feels. Don't judge her answer, just be curious. She might ignore you initially as we have been disconnected for way too long, but she'll come round, because she loves attention. If you do it everyday her voice will get louder, until you're living each moment from her truth. She sheds anything inauthentic and is completely illogical, but she is a real creative force to be reckoned with, and life is boring without her guidance. Or come and see me for a session! We are each born with a unique soul blueprint, and mainly just need to get out of our own way. When you tune into your personal map, it will take you on a wild shortcut to your shadow which are the blocks to full expression of your gifts. When you embrace your shadow, you will experience true freedom, and when you get in touch with your purpose, life is truly magical and abundant. You are doing a disservice by staying small, the world needs your gift, come shine. Carly has a BA Health Science ND, adv dip Naturopathy and Nutritional Medicine, and trained with the late Astrologer and Psychotherapist Parampara Hughes. She studied writing at the Australian Writer's Centre. She has worked with various groups of women around the world using plants, planets and storytelling as a medicinal tool for healing. Her photography and filmmaking projects all explore themes of female sexuality, motherhood, the divine feminine, spirituality, Mother Earth and indigenous culture. She is also a freelance journalist and author and has been published in various Australian and international press including Archer, Mindfood, The Sunday Telegraph, Green, Wellbeing, and SummerWinter. In 2013, she was the winner of the Editia Books Narrative Journalism Prize and in 2015 a recipient of the Northern Rivers Screenworks Inside the Writer's Room mentorship. Get in touch with Carly via her website Herstory_Collective to work with her or book a session, and follow her on Instagram. + + THE MUSE SPOKE is a mini-interview series with inspiring humans that embody soulful creative self-expression. + +
Nimbus series by Berndnaut Smilde “If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.” Dusk was beginning to close its eyes and retire for the night. I'd just finished watching a sunset from the back deck, the peachy hues reflecting off the dangling banana blossoms in the yard. This time of the day has a way on entrancing me into a peaceful lull. So naturally I jumped when out the corner of my eye I saw the hairy, moving limbs of a huge huntsman two metres away from me on the ground. I turned to look at her, and she paused. I froze. Don't get me wrong- I respect spiders as a species- but they do petrify me. I prefer they keep their distance, and they usually do. But this one, she had a distinct look of defiance in each of her eight eyes. She knew I knew... before I could protest, she began her assault, running at full speed directly towards me. She was too fast, I knew I would never get away in time. All I could do was scream for mercy. And just as she propelled herself off the ground and onto my body... I awoke with a terrified startle. This is a recurring dream that I've had haunting my sleep for as long as I can remember. It plays out on average about once or twice a week, and while the scenes change, the characters (spider woman and I) and the plot (having a face-off where I lose) never changes. It's rather unpleasant every time, but to some extent I've just come to get used to them. A few years ago I decided it might be telling me something, so I became interested in different cultural myths around the symbolism of spiders. In the Cherokee tradition Grandmother Spider was said to bring the light to a dark world by capturing the sun with her web, storing it in a clay pot, and bringing it back to the land of perennial night. In Ancient Egypt, Neith was a spider goddess who wove the world into being from primordial waters. Within my own ancestry there is spider mythology too. There is a well known folk tale that originated in the Ashanti people of Ghana about Anansi, the spider trickster. He is said to have brought all the stories from his father Nyame, God of the Sky, down to the earth, and is therefore the keeper of storytelling and wisdom. The Celts also have their creation stories. The Druids believed that the spider was responsible for creating the alphabet. The Ogham (early Irish alphabet) was developed in her web, and this is how writing came to enchant readers, the 'spelling' of words created imaginary worlds and left audiences 'spellbound'. Palace of Tears performance, 2001, Nelly Agassi. "A word after a word after a word is power." Now to anyone interested in symbolism and dreams my fear of spiders could be read in a multitude of ways, the most obvious being that I am afraid of truly coming into my own as a weaver of words. Indeed, I am afraid of spinning my dreams into a reality because it means facing my shadow spider woman. It's a large leap from imagining a life to living that life. There is a part of me that doesn't know any other way of being in the world, and to some extent has grown comfortable in that routine. I've watched numerous films in the past few weeks (La La Land, Ella and 500 days of Summer) that each explored the plight of creatives who pursue their dreams, and the obstacles they face along the way. Each story highlighted that going after what you want often means juggling your work with other day jobs, facing fierce competition, and pushing forward despite criticism from others. But perhaps the biggest obstacle of all is a lack of self-belief. As I was watching these characters struggle with their constant self- doubt, it dawned on me that while it's true that in order to become successful in your craft you must get to the point where you believe in yourself, this generally only manifests through the process of putting yourself out there while you're still unsure. Every time you get a 'no' from the world, whether it's from a publisher or a casting panel or a choreographer, your own 'yes' that resides within you speaks back with more volume and more conviction. Entrapment, 2010, by Tanapol Kaewpring “No matter what, your path is yours. Devote every moment of your life to improving your dreams. Love your world. From a little spark, may burst a mighty flame.” But until that voice rings out loud and clear, it's the architecture of your dreams that propels you forward. The faith in knowing what you want, even if you don't know how to get there, is what pulls you over every hurdle. It has taken me years to get to the point where I begin to have some belief in myself as a writer. But I knew in my deepest of hearts that I have a picture of the kind of life I want to be living. It's a life where the work that I'm doing is creatively fulfilling for me and helpful and inspiring for others. It's fuelled by sharing my stories and creating platforms for the once buried stories of others to emerge, because to me, it is our stories that make up the bone and marrow of who we are. When someone sits across from me and trusts me enough to tell me their dreams, tragedies and loves, it is as though I've been given a gift from their soul, and I keep all of them tucked away like treasure. Sharing stories around the fire by weaving worlds with words is something we have been doing since time immemorial; it is an essential part of being human. I've never given up on that dream, even though there are moments where it feels impossible. It reminds me of an old tale about King Robert the Bruce of Scotland. The King hid out in a cave for 3 months after being defeated in a battle in the 1300s. Everyday, he would watch this spider weave her web at the entrance of the cave. As the story goes she fell down, time and again, but she persisted, and eventually she completed her creation. From that King Robert learned that if we want to create anything in life, we need persistence as our ally. After this point King Roberts decided to rejoin his men and brought his newfound wisdom to them- "If at first you don't succeed, try, try, and try again". The moral of the story is to continue spinning your web. Allow it to hold you in its strength until you believe that you have everything you need to bring your dreams into reality. You just need to keep going- one foot, one beat, one thread, one word in front of another. + + Don't want to miss a post? Sign up to my monthly newsletter here for more inspiration.
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