My notebook

  Moth is hiding In my cupboard All the muddiness Calling to be looked at I’ ve heard so many stories from so many wonderful women. I’ve cherished their voices and honor the experiences that they shared with me. In sacred moments, when we sit in a circle or next to each other, we often talk about what is underneath ; The precious moments that we carry in our hearts, the fragments of life that we carefully protect from the outside disturbances and noise .   We also speak about the moments in our lives that have taught us about courage that we’ve somehow embraced despite everything. We’ve spoken about the parts of self that we never revealed to anyone. I’ve learned a lot from these conversations. I’ve learned a lot about myself, about my own mask and what was hiding underneath. I’ve been working with layers of paint filled with a lot of uncomfortable personal fragments. I t’s helped me to remove layers and layers of these unwanted feelings with the stages of grie

  In November last year, a very close friend of mine passed away. It was a sudden and unexpected departure that left me paralyzed and shocked. My friend was the kind of friend that I knew I could always share some of my deepest thoughts and feelings. I knew they would remain there stored in her heart infinitely. It was a friendship where we both felt seen and heard in each other ’s presence. It was a friendship where I was always encouraged to continuously keep experimenting and creating my art. Several months ago, I experienced some of the most intense anxiety attacks that I had in years. I was in shock and didn’t know why all of these intense and deeply uncomfortable feelings were emerging... And it came to me then… It was fear! Fear that emerged from a fragmented past and shattered memories. The fear of losing my friends, fear of losing my family and the fear of losing people that I love due to death or war or large physical distances. I started realizing t