I spoke to my hero today, she has been for some time. Someone that says something at times when people don’t speak. She spoke with honesty and with presence. It shook me and i noticed.
We spoke about our practice. How we knew each other. Our childhood, our lockdown, us as mothers. She talked of energy and purpose. How some things just coincide and shed light over dark spaces.
We spoke about our heroes that draw us back to our strength in practice and if this is something we ourselves do?
Its something i look out for now. It happened today. In light of what happened yesterday. And as i write this now my youngest is crying over a lost toy i wont help him find. It is because this is serious. This is a warcry.
The conversation ends and i stop for a moment before i’m jolted with a plea for lunch.
My news feed yesterday was littered with panic. A fear of loosing something special, something integral, something serious. Its been rumbling with unrest for weeks. This morning i heard a different sound. #savethearts and it is a warcry accompanied with an image. An image that says the world turns in darkness in the absence of the arts.
The posts of my friends continue were i notice a little read notification. It asks me if i will accept a message. I do and i read. It is from an artist early in their career. The message reads that i was their mentor and that i was in some way important to them. I’m shocked to the core and i cry. Its because its serious.
The arts is a platform to converse and create a dialogue with the world for the world. It is spoken with an universal language. it is for everyone to everyone, it is history, it is culture, it is a protest, a conversation of perspective, voices for the voiceless…..
