here i am.



so deeply embedded in this desert.

I have chosen this place. I have chosen this space.

1.5 years ago I was tucked in the safe corners of the womb that is the Northwest [seattle/ portland]. I am from that womb...born in alaska, raised in big mountain country WA + ID + MA. With long hair and plenty of dresses.

I find myself now, naked, feral, cropped hair, completely exposed in the upper Sonoran desert...ready to cultivate: self. I have a herstory of constantly testing my comfort [a quite destructive process: moving, cutting ties, scissors to the hair...

basic priciples of ecology tell us that from destruction comes [re]growth...some pine seeds can only regenerate after being engulfed in flame.

Putting questions of "who is my community" aside... the pertinent Q now is "Who am I/ what is my relationship to my Self?" This sand + heat + monsoons + cicada songs have been an exfoliant...to both my physical + mental self...i feel roughed up..but know by staying it will turn into a polish finish. There are buds on the trees, spider sacks have started to appear in my little attic cave.

regeneration.

the cycle.

and in so...revealing to fragile, maddening, and beautiful mental space i navigate...WE NAVIGATE.
We natigate this ship collectively, conciously or not. What does support look like? What does the infrastructure for collective care/ self-care look like? Like this perhaps, an autonomous/ anonymous community of folks coming together out of necessity, out of want, because it's a hell of a lot better than thinking your the only one like this...

I met madigan a little over a year ago.

We were seated at the same wooden table sipping on coffee. And got to talking. About our moms. About maddness. About what solidarity looks like. About how + why both of us got to be sitting at that wooden table, in the middle of the Chiapas jungle, in a small Zapatista village, La Garucha. About why this Encuentro De Mujeres/ Womyn's Zapatista Encuenrto was so important to attend and how we we're going to share that experience with our community...who are community was. And yes, we started talking about the Icarus Project. Having lived in the creative.curious.+depressed vortex that is Seattle, Wash...and volunteering @ Left Bank, I was somewhat familiar with Icarus Project. Most just thankful they existed.. and wishing my diagnosed schizophrenic uncle Norman[my first friend, father figure, encounter with 'dynamic reality'] could have had community of support like Icarus...certainly he would still be alive today.

I have always had that...fear... of becoming crazy. [never acknowledging that i was...always was].

Don't ever drop acid, you'll turn into Norman. Yeah, well norman was the most kind, in tune, magical, and wise human I've known. Why was it something to fear then? Not the space of madness but the effects of madness to place. Society's reactions to madness.

Norman was shot dead in our home by a mental health illitarate cop. It wasn't the disease that killed norman, it was society manifested in the form of the state.

Radical Mental Health Literacy.

I was run through the diagnostic gamut: chronic depression, ADHD, informally bipolar by counselors + psychologists + friends. I laugh in the face of someone trying to tell me there was something wrong with me...this is all part of the creative madness. Had also been drugged for years + finally courageously stepped out of that numbing cloud over 2 years ago.
This is where i am choosing to begin. This ship is wrecked. + Not a bad thing. Perhaps the only way I could get myself to stay in one place for very long is to run my ship to shore...I will learn how to repair this ship.

I will plant seeds on this ship...

I will ask for help, seek out resources, and work on this ship...it's not about sailing again, it's about taking advantage of this shipwreck. Sanity is for the suppressed and afraid... I choose + embrace my brilliance, my madness, and am dedicated to logging this ebb + flow, so that I may be able to at some point chart a course for my dynamic future. I will no longer be the bystander or victim to this madness. Our power + creativity comes from embracing this madness.

Love.+.ruckus.
owl.medicine.