The Drifting Ship of Our Soul (Intro to Empty)
“What a creative life demands is that we take risks. … Creative risk taking might not turn our life upside down but, rather, might right the drifting ship of our soul." - Richard Rohr
Richard Rohr is one of my mentors. We meet in print if not in life. I openly admit an intellectual and spiritual crush on him. (Don’t worry, Ken knows all about it.)
The Rohr quote above was sent to me by a friend back in 2019. Rereading it today I nod and smile.When I’m in my studio with hands in clay I know the truth of the words right the drifting ship of our soul. The embodied work grounds and centers me in the moment and in my body.The passage goes on to read:
“When we make ourselves available for the inflow of [Spirit], we accept not only her generative power but also her ability to [overcome] whatever stands in the way of our full aliveness.” - Richard Rohr
Full aliveness.
Here’s a thought exercise: What makes you feel most alive?When are you flooded with the deep awareness, a quiet sense of connection, or the vivid assurance of your own aliveness? What makes your heart sing and your being vibrate with the simple reality of being— here & now?
More mentors
Recently, life served up more mentors who stirred generative power within me. They planted ideas that have stayed with me.
I read Barbara Kingsolver's most recent novel, Demon Copperhead. (Which was awarded the Pulitzer Prize.) Her wise and tender, vivid and raw retelling of Dickens’ classic David Copperfield knocked the wind out of me.
Kingsolver's contemporary story of loss, poverty, precarity and neglect, addiction and survival rushed at me like a hurricane. I felt adrift.
As I was reading the book I also listened to Krista Tippet’s interview with geographer Ruth Wilson Gilmore. (I’ve included a hyperlink to that interview for you.) Gilmore gave me many things to ponder. One that I took to my journal was the question:
What kind of world do I want to live in?
Journaling my way toward a response, (or was it just through the mystery?) I named what I think and feel about a number of issues that inform and shape life right now. To be alive and paying attention in this moment is overwhelming! These are stormy times.
What am I already doing?
After a dizzying look at meta problems I pivoted to consider micro realities like what I’m doing now.
I penned in my journal: I make bowls.
Can handmade bowls make this the kind of world I want to live in? More than making beautiful and useful dinnerware for collectors and foodies, I want to make a difference.
Like a thing with feathers, the idea of Empty landed in my open curiosity. The idea took root quickly. Before logic or reason (fear?) could argue it away, the concept filled my heart and mind. I felt calm in the storm. I felt called. I felt very alive.
Empty is a socially engaged art project that tells a small piece of a large story about children who live in my town, Riverside, California. Children who live with something totally foreign to me: food insecurity.
The google search began. Concept notes filled my screen. Links to local organizations. I began a series of conversations and at this writing I am deep into the data-gathering phase of the project.
Initially, solid numbers are needed to plan for the scope of the work. I’ll recruit local artists/makers as collaborators because I know my limitations!
I love collaboration
Beyond makers, I’m looking for a project coordinator to handle logistical matters, oversee funding for materials, track and store completed work for the install, and eventually manage the sale of the work.
Proceeds will go to organizations addressing food insecurity for children in Riverside. Another important collaborator is someone familiar with the issue and passionate about speaking (and listening) with the public about it.
I see the project as providing a unique platform for conversation and raising awareness. I’m not the one to do this as I have not worked in the food distribution ecosystem, campaigned for the cause (until now), nor experienced hunger personally.
What is Empty?
This visual story reveals the extent of food insecurity for children from Kindergarten through sixth grade (K-6)* living in Riverside.
The bowls are meant to be sold for use with proceeds going to existing Riverside programs that address this specific need.(*Initially, I considered children in K-12, or K-8; but the numbers suggest that this figure is over 8,000. Not only would this pose a challenge for installation, but also for making!)
If you live in Riverside, or know someone who does, how does the thought of collaborating with me land with you? Does it right your drifting soul, or stir you into full aliveness?
If so, please reach out to me. Soon. In full aliveness,
