Heads Will Roll
As I headed out towards the receding tide, I carried my burden in four heads of sculpted clay. There was a cool, damp edge to the air. I could not quite get a reading on how I felt about what I had come here to do...excited, skeptical, hesitant, heart racing. My body shivered...cold, anticipation?
I had been in the midsts of healing from a deep emotional wound resulting from a prolonged traumatic event that occurred. In my constant quest for sanity, I found myself purchasing a 25 pound bag of clay and a set of wooden tools to work with. Tho I am an artist, I am not skilled at working in clay as it is not my medium of choice. In hindsight, my lack of knowledge allowed me to be in a place in which I could freely explore and be with my intention.
I was focused on creating heads that embodied certain emotions that weighed on me. The heads did not have to look good or right...they simply needed to feel right. My objective was to depict the emotion detached from the circumstances that caused them. Making the heads was a way to just be with the feelings of Agony, Rejection, Fear and Anger. There are times when "wear" our emotions be it physically, mentally or spiritually. For me I saw it on my face each morning when I woke, each day I passed through, each evening I tried to rest...thus the heads.
In my mind, I came to a place where I decided that since the facts and actions of certain events can never be changed, I had best focus on understanding how the resulting emotions show up in my life and how I can best navigate their pushing and pulling. My reactions are the only thing that can change, which for me is the very definition of personal growth.
My heart is pounding as I get closer..."How do I feel? will this have any affect or is it all just bullshit?" After all I can think up all the rituals I want but that does not mean the affect will be positive, shifting or growth oriented.
I chose a spot higher up on the waterline and begin. Each head placed randomly, defined by words in the sand...an acknowledgement to the world of their truths laid bare before the heavens. I stand back and watch the water gently approaching.
Speaking of self protection...why let her go? On her chest a breastplate of sorts, made from a broken shell found on a small beach the night truths unfolded. There were two sets of shells glowing in the moonlight as he tried to light candles that refused to burn. A prayer unable to send. Each red head had a way of leaning on her. She held them long enough and now her work was done. She had to go with the rest for she was attached to the others...each a part of one identity, my identity...a part I no longer wish to be burdened by.
The four heads rolled up and down the sand with each wave that came as I watched. It was difficult to let go of the creations I had worked so hard on. Self protection was the first to completely dissolve, leaving only the shell embedded in the sand. "They belong here" I kept saying to myself. The ocean is much stronger than I, much more capable of carrying this weight for me. I pick them up, hold their softening forms against each other, against the sky...I place them back down again, over and over again.
Burdensome thoughts...torn pages from a journal, weighted words
Feelings of Rejection
Misty Veils of Deceit
one over another obscuring truth...
Let it go, let it all go.
As I shed the words I wrote, blurred blue ink drips through my fingers briefly staining the sand before it too is cleansed away in the rush of cold salty water. The three red heads continue to emerge, always near each other. I stand by them. The details of my sculpting blurred, softened...my emotions nurtured and my mind quieted as I breathed in the salty air, cleansed.