The last week of a wild decade

Over ten years I have woven and unravelled and rewoven again

A week from today I move from 40’s to 50’s.

When I turned 25, I nearly crashed my car when my youngest brother casually remarked it was only 15 years until I was 40. It seemed so old, so far away, almost impossible.

And now 40 is a distant memory. 

It has been a big decade. One where I unwove some of my tapestry, enthusiastically set to weaving a whole complex new addition, and then slowly unpicked it again to start over.

And never have I been more happy than I am right now.

Despite the creaks and groans that are slowly sinking in, despite the chronic illness and mental health struggles. I am here, now. A human animal, finding her way into a deeply connected relationship with the wild. Listening to the words written on my heart and our cells from generations before, when we had no choice but to be in connection with the wild. My tapestry is hand-made, imperfect, and beautiful. It tells a story, one that is ever more genuine and heartfelt, perhaps at the expense of a glamour of elegance. It is real, congruent, and as authentic as it can be within the constraints of the time and society we live in and the complexity of being a human amongst so much noise.

Every morning when I walk I say hello to every bird and lizard I see. Out loud, and with joy.

I greet fellow walkers only as an aside to an enthusiastic greeting to their little wild-hearted furry companions.

I touch trees and thank them for their beauty.

I look skywards, even when the sun is in my eyes.

I marvel at the mosses that grow between the concrete pavements and cheer on the casuarina saplings trying their hardest to remove the divide between wild and cement foot path.

I breathe in wild, so that I can grow a little more wild each day too.

While I may never reach my dream of being an-artist-in-the-forest version of Baba Yaga (with a studio on heron legs, natch), with each intentional recognition of the individual personhood of each wild being, and a determination to use my still growing art skills to honour them with heart and reverence, I am becoming more, well, me.

The hardships of last year taught me a lot. That I survived them is a gift, and one that I want to use to empower connection to the wild for others. Through sharing what I have learned about creating art, sharing the artwork itself, and writing about the deep connection with this beautiful Earth that we need to thrive. I mean, for this to be the focus of my 50’s of my human beingness moving forward, is, well, wild.

I am birthing a whole new place for wild-hearted artists to call home, Hedgerow. Like that little bit of wildness on the edge of human constructs and control (aka fields) Hedgerow is a gentle, inclusive community and learning space for humans wanting to connect to their creativity, to each other, and to the wild world through making beautiful art.

Over on The Sketchbook Sanctuary this week I am sharing some of the lessons in there, and if you would like to come sketch and draw alongside me, I would be thrilled. Gosh I am excited about it all - it feels so right.

I thought over here, though, that I might ramble on a little more about connection and curiosity and more. Does that sound ok? I feel the urge to make every last moment of my 40’s count. So I am going to write and paint the week away.

Who else is coming up on a big birthday? I would love to celebrate you! (Actually let me celebrate you regardless of birthdays, big or small).