digging and dreaming

The 2012-2013 winter was spent between Chicago and the Esterly Farm in the pacific northwest. I’m not exactly sure what I was doing in either location other than restoring my strength to move from my professional pursuits into my authentic self. Looking back, perhaps I was making peace with each place so that I could walk away with or without their abundant gifts.

Until two years ago the Esterly farm had been a cattle ranch. During my residency I was anemic and awarded the best beef I could remember consuming. I made landscape art with forest debris. I learned about poison oak and my extreme allergic reaction – again. I feed chickens and stole their eggs. I picked nettles and I was taught how to tie-dye. I lived cheap, I downsized and I traveled out of state every month mapping my next move. I engaged with a steady stream of visitors and my 5 year old neighbor was generous in sharing her steady stream of art. I made a labyrinth and hung cloth hummingbirds in a tree. I explored how food and physical connection nurtured a slow growing trust with an unattended horse, lama and donkey. The week before I left I rode Lucy the horse bare back with friends beside me. My 15 year old neighbor and I spearheaded a simple mural painting on the barn doors. Additional creative contributions by other artists emerged as plants were put in place by farmers.

What did I learn during this time? Well, you know the phrase “you can chose your friends but not your family?” Community is both. By the time I left I was ready and reluctant.