Feeling groundless

Hello my loves,

Everything is heavy, right? It is so, SO, hard to find ground when the world, this beautiful pale blue dot we hurtle around in space on together, feels groundless.

I know this is being talked about a lot, everywhere, but it is important to me that you know that I see you, and I feel what you are feeling. What we are witnessing globally is genuinely distressing, and as human animals, our natural - and valid - response is despair, anxiety, and sometimes, or often, an inability to access creativity in the same way as we might otherwise. I don’t know about you, but even as a full time artist I have had thoughts about the frivolity of creating during this global unravelling sneak in - despite knowing viscerally that is not only not helpful, but it is also not true. I feel super anxious, on top of my usual anxiety - and I have the genuine privilege of being on a big beautiful island a long way away from everything. But we also know the world is a lot smaller now, so I also feel like I am right where you are, too.

I struggle with these thoughts, these feelings. I don’t have it figured out (I don’t know that I have anything figured out, to be completely honest). But I do know that it is deeply important for me to walk alongside you, and for you to know that is where I am. Right beside you, navigating this wild, uneven path.

I want to acknowledge the weight of everything right now. Multiple wars affecting real people like you and I and the wild beings they live with, political madness, financial insecurity, environmental destruction, and so much more.

The worst thing we can do is gaslight ourselves into not really feeling those feelings, or thinking we shouldn’t, for whatever reason. I know who you are - the people that walk in this wild world alongside me here, you, are wild-hearted, empathetic, compassionate, courageous, and conscious about how what we do impacts the world. So I know you, we, are feeling it all, deeply. That is normal. It is what makes us who we are. And it is also our strength.

Human animals are funny beings.

We are the worst, and we are the best. Collectively, and individually. We are capable of SO MUCH - be it good or bad and everything in between. But something we have done throughout history, is to make art, to be creative, during the darkest of times. Not as escapism (though it can also be that), but as witness, as resistance, and as survival.

Creating, making art, is not ignoring reality - it is a way to process what is happening, it is a way to witness, but also to make a choice to act in quiet resistance against despair.
Even the smallest act is huge. Truly.

When you create, you are seeing deeply. You return to the immediate, the tangible, the actual reality of what is directly in front of you. And there are so many ways to do that, to remember we are still embodied beings connected to a living world that continues despite human chaos. You may not be able to access actual art-making sometimes - but noticing the shape of a leaf, the pattern of bark, the movement of birds becomes an act of presence when everything else feels out of control. Doing this is literally growing your observation skills, a major aspect of creating. And so, being present is creativity, every bit as much as being creative is being present.

You are worthy of your creativity - that unique-to-you act of making that brings light into this world.

We don’t need to put expectations on what that creativity looks like, or what any outcome might be. We can accept that the world is heavy, accessing creativity can be hard, but that we are worthy of finding ways to embody that rebellious act of self care, and do it anyway.

You know how I feel about the wild world, that I truly believe that even the most concrete bound urban tree has so much to teach us, and so I think there are a lot of gentle pathways forward, and that the ones that involve connecting with nature are the best ones. Things like:

• Sitting outside for 5 minutes to notice shapes, colours, movement

• Sketching something very simple - a single feather or leaf, a small stone, your own hand

• Using your hands to connect with natural materials - feeling bark, arranging pebbles

• Recording observations in simplest forms - one sentence, a colour swatch

• Moving your body in ways that mirror natural movements (like water, trees in wind)

As you know, I have a solo show coming up in just over 6 months at a gallery in another state. How this heaviness, despair, and uncertainty is affecting me at the moment is in turning up the imposter syndrome, fear and resistance I have around being able to make these paintings at all, let alone have them match my vision. (And those voices are LOUD).

These are thoughts that keep me small, in scarcity, and wondering if it is even worth it, if any of it matters given what is happening in other parts of the world. These thoughts and feelings feel bloody horrible to be honest. I know this is my physiological, emotional, psychological response, and it is human and real and normal, and also, what else might be true?

Maybe these paintings, and the beautiful struggle of creativity, are necessary, and so bloody important right now - for me, and for others who by witnessing my creativity are helping it unfurl. And maybe, if today feels particularly hard (like the whole weekend did), I can work on a separate drawing that is just for me in my sketchbook, and know that is enough. Know that is just as important. Know that is a bridge to my other work, and a connection that will strengthen the more I show up to it.

And in between, I will sit out under the mulberry tree and wonder at the lives of the Red Wattle birds, and the Peewee, and feed peanuts to the Magpies and sunflower seeds to the cockies and just pay attention to what is right here, right now.

Because this attention is also an act of reciprocity.

While news of what other humans are doing is impactful to us physically and emotionally and psychologically, despite being wholly out of our control, what we do have control over, and often forget, is that we have a physical, tangible world right around us that we can interact with in our very real body, through our senses and not just our brain, and that will give us so much more than we could even consider.

This non-human world continues on, authentic, intentional, wholly present and alive and accepting. We have so much to learn from that, so much attention we can pay to that, rather than what is intangible, coming through electronic means, and beyond our ability to influence on a global stage as an individual.

Reciprocity is the act of meaningful exchange. Paying attention to the wild around you is an act of reciprocity.

There is solace in being part of something older and larger than our current moment. There is comfort in remembering we are just one wild-hearted being among so many, and that these other beings - birds, trees, waters, continue their cycles regardless of human politics, and they are no less important for that. You are made of the same stardust, dear one. You are deeply interwoven with this wild beingness. Seeing that is seeing yourself, and knowing that you are connected and cared for. And that your creativity is an example of that.

I think now, more than ever, we need community as an anchor. There is exponential power in creating together, even in small ways. Our shared observations and experiences and love for the wild builds connections where so much discourse seeks to divide.

For those of you who are deep into your creativity now, recognising how vital it is in this moment, and filled with the self-compassionate act of giving yourself permission to do so, I see you, I honour you, I am in that creative flow as often as possible too. For those of you desperately wanting to create but feeling resistance, fear, helplessness, I see you, I honour you, and I am there sometimes too. Both things can be true - for all of us - at once. I want you to know that you are important. Your creativity matters. And accessing it in both tiny and big ways is the most beautiful act of compassion, courage, and connection, and that stuff ripples out like waves of the most glittery fairy-dust - getting all over everything and not coming out in the wash. That is a good thing.

I want to acknowledge the genuine weight we are all feeling while offering gentle permission to continue creating - not as escape but as presence, resistance, and connection. You bring beauty into this world. Your creativity, your art making, is so, so needed - for yourself, beautiful human, and for us all.

In what feels like an all-encompassing, overwhelming time of chaotic groundlessness, our creativity becomes the soil beneath our feet, a place we can extend our roots for balance, comfort and stability, and connecting us irrevocably to what remains true and enduring.

I am so honoured to walk this wild world with you.