I’m moving slowly and gently into this new year, and healing from the inside out.
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You could say Midnight Mass is about what happens when evil masquerades as good, but I think it’s more complex than that, and more relevant. At its core, it addresses who we are as humans experiencing life, the role faith and belief play in our existence, and ultimately, the nature of God. While it offers up some of the most horrifying theology I’ve ever witnessed, what is revealed in the final episodes is some of the most beautiful.
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I’m writing a book on Patreon. I’d love for you to join me.
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I’m beneath the purple twinkle lights sipping coffee while wearing a sweatshirt emblazoned with a skeleton sitting in a crescent moon…drinking coffee.
A few nights ago, I sat in the trees with friends and drank hibiscus tea.
It is the season of mugs and herbs and skulls, but still warm enough that the summer people are still wearing their summer clothes.
The liminal season before the fall.
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The more fresh air I breathe, the more balanced I am.
The more I listen to the trees, my hand against the bark, the more I understand about being alive.
Years ago, someone asked, Do you feel you are of this earth or do you feel you are a visitor here?
I am a visitor.
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I have things to share with you about my adventures in Germany, Austria, England, and New York this summer - delightful, touristy things.
This, however, is not that post.
Travel is difficult for me.
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The fact that art heals is still an unknown fact for the majority of people.
When I was an undergrad art student, art as healing was an idea that sparked great debate.
Art was art. It was serious business.
But healing?
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Years ago I had a psychic reading that struck me with its veracity.
"I see you walking along the path of your life," the reader said, "and there are people who join you. They come and walk with you for a while then they leave."
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