The Weight of Water

I met Em in a Women's Circle. In a dream I saw her in a lake and she was safe for the water held her up. It was evening and the light had softened. If we float are we free, can we leave our bodies for a while and see a different world? I usually photograph the story of my participant, they talk and I listen; both to the words and to the current flowing under them. This time I asked if she liked water and if she was willing to experiment with me by becoming the woman in my dream for an hour.  In her work she practises reiki and reflexology, I feel a connection to her as if she is to teach me something about how we release trama. If I see her floating - what is it that I need to do, if the light is golden - is that me asking for my heart to fill with something other than the grey hues of sadness and regret? 

Last autumn I asked a friend Golda, what healing would look like so I could work out how to photograph it? She said I was not there yet - thus I could not feel or see it. She is my wisest friend. I have lived trauma and I see it in others. It can scare me when I look into an eye and feel a jolt of in my solar plexus.  This the purpose of photography for me, looking for the connection, seeking my twin? It leads me into a tribe where I come to understand myself by finding a mirror in the eye of another. It eases loneliness. 

 In my work I will continue to explore the trauma we endure, if I bear witness to the resilience in another, and see how they rise, they find value in that portrait for they chose to lower their guard and confront the viewer. Their defiance is empowering for us both. But I long for beauty to be abundant in my world too.

What might peace or joy feel like? How can it be extraordinary, how might I create that frame?  I seek healers and tend to my pain. I had surgery to mend something broken in childhood, I took the physio, the reiki, the shaman, yoga and meditation. I had so much trauma in early life that I wonder if I will ever finish this grieving. I long for ecstasy and the quiet moments of contentment. I run away with my imagination, make up an atlas of places that do not exist and value the dreams that stream through my heart. The art of fantasy - a childhood tactic turned into a photographic project. 

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