current musings

'resting tiger, zestful stripes' 12x24in, acrylic on board | original by Carly Wanner-Hyde

This piece is the first in a new body of work exploring humans as part of nature, rather than happening to it.

It is simultaneously a blessing and a curse to feel things so very deeply. On one hand, I get to fully embody the exuberance of joy and feel as though the sun sits within my chest. On the other, the depth and ache of my sadness can feel consuming. I take comfort and solace in the fact that all things must pass: the "good" and the "bad" and everything in between will slip from my grasp and into the ether, and all of it is okay.

Most recently, I've been feeling particularly drawn to 'yin' energy, the harmonious counterpart to 'yang' (rhymes with 'long') energy. If you are unfamiliar with yin, it is the feminine cooling energy that flows and receives. It creates the spaces of contemplation and introspection, and invites us to slow down and be held rather than be the holder. I have been thinking a lot about how humanity might be ready to embrace a yin energy and shed the yang energy that we seem to be clinging to so desperately. Yang energy can be described as hot, outwards, and expansive. It can be more dominating when out of balance, controlling, even. Both 'yin' and 'yang' are necessary for all things to exist harmoniously, however, they must be working with each other in balance.

How, then, do we more fully embrace this yin energy to bring ourselves back into balance, especially considering our relationship, and inherent belonging, to the earth? How do we disengage from the speed of this capitalist society and intentionally, gracefully, slow things down? I think we need to create space for ourselves to really consider the path that we are individually and cohesively on, and understand our roles in the scenes unravelling before us. We need time to reflect on the world as it is, ideate what it could be, and make intentional pivots and decisions to embody and live out these ideals. I don't know exactly what those "ideals" are, and certainly can't extend them to the rest of humanity in a rash blanket statement. I can, however, exert what that might mean in my own life (making art, writing silly poems, crying at sunsets, holding the hand of the people i love, the list goes on).

I know that deep connection with other humans, creatures, and plants is integral to me and therefore my work. What does "deep connection" mean, though? Slow down, be still, listen, create space, ask questions, be curious, release judgment, be. Bell Hooks uses a definition of "love" that I have begun to guide my life, art, and relationships by, and feels like it embodies the needs that "deep connection"requires to flourish: the will to extend one's self for the the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth.

The ego and the spirit seem like they cannot be developed at the same time; they are mutually exclusive of the other. I cannot extend myself for the honest growth of your spirit or my own by ruling through my ego. My ego cannot create space, it cannot listen without judgment or let go of my own expectations, it cannot embody yin energy. If this feels intriguing, I recommend reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle (perhaps purchased from your local bookstore). But my spirit, my 'self', can release itself to the yin energy flowing around me. It can become part of the tapestry rather than working to be the weaver, the controller. It is for this reason I have been using the dark stripes of animals to enshroud the human form. The stripes help us identify a tiger or a zebra for what it is, but a tiger or a zebra is not its stripes. In the same vein, we are a part of nature but we do not control nature, regardless of what we tell ourselves. We perhaps need to relearn to move with, work with, the environment.

So, in the meantime, go sit out in the water, hold 'swan' pose for five minutes, and/or practice some meditation and let go of thoughts just to see what swims to the surface. Rest intentionally, be bored, sit with someone you love. I'll be doing the same.

Be well,

Carly