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On this strange, wild trip through the Wyrd, I’ve embraced many paths of metanoia—the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life; and becoming new—all of which led me to a truth centered around the presence of every moment, the interconnectedness of all life, and the unfurling, living mosaic of the cosmos perpetually being woven.
I was introduced to shamanism and the entheogenic plant experience relatively early in my life. It became apparent to me that our inherent sense of separation from our natural world and the divine sense of play so needed within our lives was at the root of our modern ailments, and it is only by fostering this connection that we could see past the illusion of separateness and embrace a unified field.
It doesn’t matter whether we use the language of physics, that of astrology, or peer into remnants of once vast civilizations and the myths they’ve left behind; the story is universal and our shared inheritance of one humanity in active participation with the Earth and the universe. Consciousness is a funny thing, and wherever we chase it, it leads us back to ourselves, to the subjective reality of our experience. And therein lies the healing draught—the awareness of our heart-mind shaping the story of our lives. It’s at once a simple, yet a deceptively complex concept, one that would take volumes to scratch the surface of and just as easily be understood in the silence between breaths.
In active reciprocity to the earth and universe that gives me life, I create, weaving stories and images through my sacred art practice, imagining new myths from out of the bones of our archetypal bedrock. I study the stars and the divination methods of our ancestry, all of which become a humble linguistic tool to capture the magic of the living cosmos in a moment in time.
I continue to honor the traditions of our indigenous wisdom keepers and the knowledge offered by the plants and the rest of our brothers and sisters on this earth. If you listen, they have stories to tell, and even a neon sign or the honking of a horn, speak in the language of synchronicity.
It is this spirit of wonder, of aliveness, in the breath of the Wyrd that art and story offers to the world, and to which I hope to contribute in my weird way. For it is this rekindling of our heart’s flame that is the only light we ever need to see us through the dark night of suffering. A light reflected in every aspect of our shared humanity and even in the very stars overhead, if only we can think to look up, or sit still long enough to hear the song of the earth on the wind.
What gives me hope is that we are right on time, and one-by-one we are awakening to that realization of cosmic unity. Even if the tides of civilization may be slower than we might like, we can help birth the new world into being in every mundane action of our lives, simply by paying attention and honoring each moment with the love of our presence.
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