Art of Collecting Yourself

When I was in my early twenties, now nearly twenty years ago, I embarked on a journey of healing and transformation. I knew it was a journey that for all intensive purposes was do or die (or at least do or live without joy and peace in my life.) I had lost my mother a few years earlier and found myself stuck in the grief and unable to move forward.

I began with a blank journal and a handful of prisma colors a friend had given me. I had never been much for drawing or art for that matter, but I was tired of feeling hopeless and decided to charge into my imagination to find what waited there. To my amazement an inner mythology seeped out onto the page and my story of becoming unfolded.

Many of the images from my journal have stayed with me. They live in my mind…

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