Red: The Digging / 741 Feet Below
My skin tightens at the sight of red. I feel a deep uncertainty in my bones, a grueling discomfort beneath my skin. My unease emerges each full moon, I'm overcome with a dagger of doubt that begins to slowly hollow out my chest. I begin losing sensation of the leather chair beneath my body, I quickly blink my eyes closed and back open again as to change the channel in my mind.
I sense the curiosity quickening in my heart, questions that can only be hushed by revealing the root of my pain become the compass to my quest. I fear that the solace hides deeply beneath my soil. For so long I hadn’t the courage to dig up my roots and find out what had been rotting away so I ran from it, constantly turning my head away from its burning presence.
Everywhere I go the red soil shifts beneath my feet, knowing the enemy lies underneath this bed of green grass I sense my paranoia grow branches tightly around my veins. I try running, only to feel the sharp pain of a branch stab through my stomach, I pause and look down in shock. My mind flashes with memories of my youth. A reminder of the cactus needles pulled from my skin after a miscalculated tree climb. Heat boils my hands reminding me of the burnt fingertips I earned after adolescent efforts of cooking. Bee stings. Bike falls. Knee scars. All the pain floods my nerves at once. I can feel the pounds of pain pile onto the mound of fear that sits heavily between my hips. I'm reminded that peace cannot pass through this body, if calm was a river my skin is a wall of boulders.
The chaos circles outside of me, the black mirrors flash images of waste piling on our land, scarcity between communities replace weekend cookouts, brutality and wickedness reach out their fists bruising us from our attempt at a peaceful survival. The fear reaches for my spirit, I'm told that if I were truly to dig up the ground beneath me, that I would reach the gates of hell. The pain continues to grow deeper into my roots. At this point, I wanted the discomfort to end, so, I did what any insane person would do, I started digging.
September 2025
Acrylic, Sweetgrass & Incense Ash
24" x 36"
The Cultivation of the Philosopher's Stone
along one's spiritual journey towards wholeness.
Great read!! I been digging deep myself!!!