I am deeply emboldened by the fact that somehow there will be words and thoughts that are true and alive right here in this space by morning, tomorrow. I know this because like you, I am vibrating with the speed and consciousness of the divine, channeled through my body, our imagination- – our knowing part of creation. I am deeply connected to you as a sister, as a friend and as a mirror through which I saw us straddling to keep our balance while hurt, while drunk, while we were so angry, while alone, with everybody else. I was with you when you fleshed out your pain to be more visible and significant. You are so beautiful. I see it the same time I see how delicious and magnificent I am seeing myself shape my body to reflect my mind and my beliefs. We are truly eternal. As I feel that I have known you for a long time, way before I first heard about you and saw you in school, and met you, I saw your paintings and heard your voice and knew I am part of you. I feel the same with every other being that I love and all that I see and understand to be everything. Nothing is nothing. Right?
It feels so good surrendering to the fact that we have knowledge. That in essence we are not at odds with the truth, with history and with this reality. I am so glad we know ourselves to be artists, because to be on the knowing end of this job, this action, this consciousness only means to be present in the continuous redefining and re-fleshing of the universe right before our very hands, our movements, our time. A sex brain created Adam. A hug remembered Sophia. Seeing Yaldabaoth again and again as a punch line, as guilt, as necessary, as malignant and somewhat within. You are my guide to language. And your openness filled me with good courage and new awareness that I couldn’t have possibly encountered on my own.
“…So now, we emphasize what degrees we’ve attained, what books we own, and other such markers of intellectual status… but not the act of creating knowledge.”
– from “Broken African Libraries and the Colonization of Creative Knowledge” by T. Hasan Johnson, Ph.D
The addict saw what the baby knew what the mother had fought about with the sun. The farmer’s anger informs a brother, made the man accountable and a pretty grandma sing.
Marija would like to give acknowledgement to the following.
Without our support this show would not be possible.
“ I would like to thank Timmy, our families and extended families, our pets and theirs. To Tanya, MM, MJ Marfori, Ate Sol and West Gallery.
The show must go on.”