I started working on the wall hanging that I’ve been thinking about for a couple of weeks. It came to me when I was having a massage. I kept seeing the desert in my mind. I have this idea that the desert is a place where everything is exposed and preserved. Unlike the North East where I live, where everything is covered with layers of soil and leaves and plants which are constantly decomposing. There is little visible evidence of what went on here a few hundred years ago, unless you dig for it and then it’s mostly decayed. In the desert, you can find bones and pottery shards from hundreds of years ago, nothing is overgrown, rocks aren’t buried beneath layers of damp soil and moss.
For me it’s become metaphor for living openly and honestly. For standing in my truth and speaking my truth. The words also came to me during the massage.
As dry and bare as the desert
Nowhere to hide
Nothing to Hide
This Is Me