A mere "lucky" 7 years later after walking across the stage with my terminal art degree in Baltimore.
Systems reengaging but knitting.
This is probably the first of a series diving into PJ making more tools to deal with more life, mainly centering black joy within recovery and healing from CPTSD/Narcissism & Domestic Abuse and severe burnout. Life has been bold and full, while my ever extended low-to-no social media communications have been sparse and on hold. Yes, the cliche of motion sickness is over used, but Pirate Jenny has been out to sea, reflecting, pausing and learning how to hammock, build, grow food and dive into the art as life continuum, amongst other things.
There’s been a deep lull.
Finally forced to take stock and heed of the words I’ve used lately to describe PJ for the past few years -
“PJ’s Tired” “PJ’s hammocking” - I’m taking my own advice. We tired - been tired - so tired - I’ve been low and quiet.
The Quiet has been stereotypically deafening and its been hard for everyone. For me, the silence undulates between muffles screams of a dealt blanket party - replete with life’s bruises, bashes, bumps and backstabbings and betrayals - to its comforting weight; stable, grounding, validating and anchoring while holding space in a protective, subconsciously woven cocoon.
I thought everything leading up to Freddy Gray was horrific enough.
We lost George and continue to lose black, brown, poor and native lives while I continue to naturally experiment with and slip into social distance physically and emotionally; a new language in self-protection. There’s an innate drive to keep unpacking my key, jolting and revealing life memories and patterns while today’s worlds affairs and collides and converges; threatening to toss my last tactile reminiscences under a digital rug and into the meta universe. These reminiscences float, dart and backstroke in this comfort; brushing past my eyelashes, neck and hair in acknowledgement of their impending release. Pirate Jenny, hypervigiliante of the social seas has finally been taking the rare privilege of time, graciously mandated to me by the Universe - via a job layoff right before the Great Pause and some recent other worldly interventions. It’s been a sacred challenge and blessing to afford the space in this queerly non-conforming edged form; this black, brown, lesbian and artist immigrant body - just to stop and analyze my ghosts. More importantly, I get to deeply articulate how each of those complex creatures got there...
This is a gentle work in progress.
Pics, posts, work images and such will later ensue with gentle insistency and ease.
#staytuned
#lovePJ
Systems reengaging but knitting.
This is probably the first of a series diving into PJ making more tools to deal with more life, mainly centering black joy within recovery and healing from CPTSD/Narcissism & Domestic Abuse and severe burnout. Life has been bold and full, while my ever extended low-to-no social media communications have been sparse and on hold. Yes, the cliche of motion sickness is over used, but Pirate Jenny has been out to sea, reflecting, pausing and learning how to hammock, build, grow food and dive into the art as life continuum, amongst other things.
There’s been a deep lull.
Finally forced to take stock and heed of the words I’ve used lately to describe PJ for the past few years -
“PJ’s Tired” “PJ’s hammocking” - I’m taking my own advice. We tired - been tired - so tired - I’ve been low and quiet.
The Quiet has been stereotypically deafening and its been hard for everyone. For me, the silence undulates between muffles screams of a dealt blanket party - replete with life’s bruises, bashes, bumps and backstabbings and betrayals - to its comforting weight; stable, grounding, validating and anchoring while holding space in a protective, subconsciously woven cocoon.
I thought everything leading up to Freddy Gray was horrific enough.
We lost George and continue to lose black, brown, poor and native lives while I continue to naturally experiment with and slip into social distance physically and emotionally; a new language in self-protection. There’s an innate drive to keep unpacking my key, jolting and revealing life memories and patterns while today’s worlds affairs and collides and converges; threatening to toss my last tactile reminiscences under a digital rug and into the meta universe. These reminiscences float, dart and backstroke in this comfort; brushing past my eyelashes, neck and hair in acknowledgement of their impending release. Pirate Jenny, hypervigiliante of the social seas has finally been taking the rare privilege of time, graciously mandated to me by the Universe - via a job layoff right before the Great Pause and some recent other worldly interventions. It’s been a sacred challenge and blessing to afford the space in this queerly non-conforming edged form; this black, brown, lesbian and artist immigrant body - just to stop and analyze my ghosts. More importantly, I get to deeply articulate how each of those complex creatures got there...
This is a gentle work in progress.
Pics, posts, work images and such will later ensue with gentle insistency and ease.
#staytuned
#lovePJ
RSS Feed