An Offering
i often asked myself, what do i do with grief that is so big?
i spent a season alone; drenched in solitude.
the days passed and still it did not get better. they blended together; weeks became months and months became years. time was lost to the ether. i had it once. and then it was gone.
i started drifting, in and out of reality. resurfacing did not cross my mind. it felt safe to be underwater; its what I knew best. the sounds of my escape filled the air. i lost myself and then found them again.
these prints act as an offering to my grief;
like clothes hanging on a line or the first daffodil after a long winter or swimming in the lake at night; moments like these can never last. that is what makes them beautiful; solace is fleeting. a time from before, when before felt like something tangible. grief sometimes feels like an object i can hold and yet, its ineffable qualities make it hard to contain.
So, where do i put the grief?
Where do we put the grief?
I put it next to the peonies
I braid it into my hair
I swim with it in lake michigan
I bury it in the garden
I carry it with me while riding my bike
I bake it into bread
I mend it into my clothes;
i set the grief free; i let it become something else, for once.