Nestled
So here I am, nestled between worlds. Feeling pretty secure in this in-between space.
Art makes explicit stuff that is going on inside, stuff our minds may not be aware of—sometimes surprising, illuminating, profound. Answers to that foundational, lifelong question, Who am I? What unique contribution do I have to make to the world?
Salmon Rusdie answers this who-am-I question in Midnight’s Children like this: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each “I,” every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world.
What has gone into the making of me? A child of Dutch immigrants, youngest child of nine, raised on a dairy in SoCal, beach-lover, full of experiences living in Africa—in villages and cities, enriched by friends who are rich and poor, refugees and rape victims, having shared life with Americans, Africans, Europeans, Sri Lankans, and more. A mother and now grandmother, a writer, a cross-cultural communicator, speaker of French and Adioukrou, linguist, world citizen, quester, artist, lover of life and beauty, with faith in resurrection and renewal, whimsical, full of laughter and tears.
Thank you to all who played a role—many who have already moved on to the next life.
So here I am, nestled between worlds. Feeling pretty secure in this in-between space.
Art makes explicit stuff that is going on inside, stuff our minds may not be aware of—sometimes surprising, illuminating, profound. Answers to that foundational, lifelong question, Who am I? What unique contribution do I have to make to the world?
Salmon Rusdie answers this who-am-I question in Midnight’s Children like this: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each “I,” every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world.
What has gone into the making of me? A child of Dutch immigrants, youngest child of nine, raised on a dairy in SoCal, beach-lover, full of experiences living in Africa—in villages and cities, enriched by friends who are rich and poor, refugees and rape victims, having shared life with Americans, Africans, Europeans, Sri Lankans, and more. A mother and now grandmother, a writer, a cross-cultural communicator, speaker of French and Adioukrou, linguist, world citizen, quester, artist, lover of life and beauty, with faith in resurrection and renewal, whimsical, full of laughter and tears.
Thank you to all who played a role—many who have already moved on to the next life.
So here I am, nestled between worlds. Feeling pretty secure in this in-between space.
Art makes explicit stuff that is going on inside, stuff our minds may not be aware of—sometimes surprising, illuminating, profound. Answers to that foundational, lifelong question, Who am I? What unique contribution do I have to make to the world?
Salmon Rusdie answers this who-am-I question in Midnight’s Children like this: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each “I,” every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world.
What has gone into the making of me? A child of Dutch immigrants, youngest child of nine, raised on a dairy in SoCal, beach-lover, full of experiences living in Africa—in villages and cities, enriched by friends who are rich and poor, refugees and rape victims, having shared life with Americans, Africans, Europeans, Sri Lankans, and more. A mother and now grandmother, a writer, a cross-cultural communicator, speaker of French and Adioukrou, linguist, world citizen, quester, artist, lover of life and beauty, with faith in resurrection and renewal, whimsical, full of laughter and tears.
Thank you to all who played a role—many who have already moved on to the next life.
9 x 12” gouache and oil on paper. Framed size, 13 x 17”.