Some thoughts on fear...

I adopted a kitten this weekend. She’s not really eight weeks old, and she’s too tiny to hold grudges.

She’s smoke, and ash-colored, like smudges,

(like the ones on driveways and back alleys and hands, left by the blowouts and sparks and hot flashes of this Saturday evening’s celebrations.)

I heard it said that the extra use of fireworks this year would have something to do with people wanting to be heard.

Did you hear them?

I held this kitten very closely to my heart at first because she’s tiny, and I realized her whole body was fearing everything at that moment, and I related to her.

How many of us feel that type of full-body fear, and if we do how many are especially unable to say it in words? In a cat’s world it is very risky to show weakness. They mask any pain or illness the best they can, even hiding when they could use help but their instincts tell them to fear instead.

And as a result they sometimes suffer or perish because no one can see them.

We humankind may feel that animal/cat-like fear but we are different in nature, and one of the main differences is our ability to connect to each other. I take a risk in exposing my weakness but it doesn’t weigh more than the truth of my unity with the world around me.

I’ve felt so much fear lately, from my heart all the way down into my bones. I’ve not wanted to mention it in any way, perhaps I thought it would just go away. But the funny thing I realized about fear this weekend is that it gets bigger when you live with it, it goes away when you ask it to leave.

Some of my recent work is below.

The toy/sculpture is made from scraps found on my desk from other projects, a reconstruction from cast-off. Below that is a pattern made by applying bleach, a lightening agent, to a very dark fabric.