I did this sculpture-
Inspired by the feeling and thoughts of being in a place of no belonging.
There is a great book by Brene Brown, about belonging everywhere and nowhere.
Braving the Wilderness ( I do recommend)
But my feeling was of an almost-melting.
Funny but grotesque.
A comical caricature of the reality that feels and swirls and stews below.
A face stretching down like putty,
The melting mask of trying to be something or someone.
When it didn’t go the way you thought it might.
When you are the one who does not belong-
Not to you or anyone else.
When you been jamming your square self into that too-small-round-hole.
Too much.
Too long.
Unfitted-able.
I had these false teeth... a couple of them actually.
Molds of my mouth.
I asked the doctor what they do with them...
He said they just got thrown away-
So I asked if I could keep them.
“Sure”...the eye slide and doubt-voice confirmed the weirdness of my request.
I’m used to that look,
“...you don’t belong....” Whispers the devil in the details.
Jo-Bug, my youngest;
Saw those plastic teeth molds, and had this great idea...
So I was glad I had 2...plus my actual dentures....
But those cost a chunk of change..so naw.
Not yet any way-
It wasn’t until I was sculpting it,
Pulling the modelling clay over a body bust to hold those teeth...
When I realized the feeling of trying to belong in a place of no belonging...
It’s a sort of pain that is gross.
The cringy kind of pain, that clenches your orifices - when you see it.
I can’t even watch those kinds of videos on YouTube, without feeling the pain.
A sharp prick, a poke, a stomach jump.
Those are not the kinds of things you want to persist with.
It feels like a taser to the nerves.
Yet, there I was-
Molding that melting face like my life depended on it.
Knuckle deep in expressing this feeling.
Sometimes, I get into this zone of needing to do these things.
Does anyone remember “Art Attack”?
It’s also relatable as that feeling of needing to poop.
When you can’t, there’s an urgency-
Constipation, but on a spiritual level.
And when it’s finally over...
The feeling of relief is universal.
Everyone knows the fantastic feeling of a glorious poop.
Satisfaction,
Even though there is also a sense of disgust.
Maybe it’s a little “too good”.
Ren and Stimpy sort of humour....for sure.
“You belong”...maybe the sense of being seen and heard.
A gift of looking at that sculpture and rejecting it.
Now I see you-
My perception shifts.
I propped up a mirror beside that sculpt.
I call it:
“A Home of no Belongings”
The background- a canvas I have been working off and on for maybe a year.
It was the sense of a crooked house, where the center is below the belly button.
The heart of the matter...
Which is another way of seeing how off-centred the heart truly is.
Leading with the heart could be the greatest imbalance of all-
If the perception of the heart, is that it is the centre.
The greatest of loves can cause harm.
I’ve stood witness to the best of intentions that back fire terribly.
Intentions come from the heart...
But are always filtered through others perception.
You cannot know my intentions-
Well,
Mirrored....
I cannot know yours.
The truth of that, will set you free.
It’s not my job to know why you do what you do.
It’s not my job, to guess.
It’s my job to know my own and act on them accordingly....
So my “not belonging” is my own.
Mirrored in the faces of those around.
If I felt fit in...I would.
Right?
I mean,
The theory stands solid any way....
So everything comes full circle...
I remember the sense of not belonging in so many worlds ...
Because each persons’ bubble is their own world
Seen through the eyes of only 1.
If accepting my own perceptions feels wrong-
It could be that is where temptation lies.
“My heart” of the matter could be stretched or broken.
Too heavy.
Too long.
Too wrong.
Being done with this one feels great.
I can finish the video of This creation at a later time...
I’ve actually been smiling and listening to Carpetman the whole morning,
Cleaning and fussing about learning how to cut Zeph for Jo-Bug.
I’ve watched the tutorials...
But oh man....
With permission, I should post the results to Facebook.
Take good care.
