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What does it mean to be in Ayni,

right relation to all things,

all parts of ourselves?

How to ignite new nodes

in the Matrix of the liminal space container, between the suffering

of thrashing about,

and giving it space to be?


Weaving

Collecting

Collaborating

Honoring


She said, “Artis has been doing this work since she was in the womb,” and this filled me with a welling up from an ancient place in myself.


Like the gentle stirring of the wind’s kisses,

rattling loose that which has had its

day in the sun,

let those fallen leaves

nourish the ground in hibernation,

composting into rich and fertile soil

for the future flowers and trees

that have yet to grow.


Rising, Rooted,

in Fertile Soil,

on Sacred Ground.


Creating a bridge

from the suffering my mother

may have experienced in her mother’s womb -

to the suffering she experienced

having her womb activated,

occupied by this undesired entity,

prompting me to begin that work

of transmutation, which of course

I signed on for when I was spirit -

to the bridge of my own womb

activated, healing, striving to

break the cycles . . . so myriad

It’s hard to name,

but in essence, of tortured womanhood,

motherhood, personhood.

Devalued, persecuted, disempowered,

mischaracterized, domesticated,

subjugated, no more!

Let them feel the power of my truth-telling,

the comfort of my bosom,

the nature of my nurturing,

the moan of my mothering,

the wisdom of the women

and men I’ve been,

from here to eternity,

damning the abusive powers that be,

demanding, I AM ME!

See me, hear me, feel me,

Listen to me, learn from me!

Though I may feel battered and bruised

by the woes of this earthly world,

There is, yes, sustaining me,

the zeitgeist of

a wild and wonderful warrior woman,

whose wisdom is as ancient as the moon & stars,

whose work began long before

I appeared as a twinkle of stardust

in my mother’s belly, evolving

into the consciousness

that is Artis Mooney.


Here I stand, Rising still,

Rooted, on the fertile soil

and Sacred Ground

of my life’s Legacy

of Love

& Letting Be.

Updated: Feb 21, 2023

mind can fly

lightyears within

traveling unfathomable distances

in split seconds


mind can soar

in silence

like the seagull

riding that magic carpet

gliding in perfect

stillness

transcending time

spiraling through

the center of

the universe


the soul is the ship

the body is the anchor


gravity brings us into this

earthly world

and she will eventually bring

us back to herself


from the moment of birth begins the propensity toward the inevitable demise

from the moment of death begins a new life


all alive

🙏🏽✨💚✨🌙



Mind Can Fly - Artis Moon Amarché


This piece is old, maybe over 20 years? I did printer’s variations on it, & this is one.


I believe at the time of writing this poem, I was really contemplating & digesting the fact that my Dad was going to die someday. There was a time when just the thought of that was unbearable & would make me weep or sob. The Personal aspect of Me just couldn’t bear it. The Universal part of Me knew that it was part of the cycle of life & did things like make art or poetry to help my Personal self accept it.


I always had a sense that we’d been family in other lives, maybe in a different relationship, maybe even been married in another life.


Now that he’s given up his body, we have a new relationship… 💚 Hard to explain unless you know what I mean, but it’s true!


Over the years, I gradually accepted the idea of the mortality of my Hero, my Dad, & partly, I was forced to accept it when I started to lose him slowly, to Dementia. But at least I could still talk with him, even if not like before, & hug & kiss him.


This morning a wave of grief hit & I found myself standing in the kitchen, crying. I miss him so very much. We adored each other.


I can’t wait to get back in the studio.


It’s actually been a long time, way too long. My Dad became an ancestor in October, my MIL in November, two days after I had to transition out of my old studio to a different space in the warehouse, but the new one wasn’t ready for me yet. We were shifting things around in the warehouse because our beloved studio mate passed unexpectedly in mid-August… (Lots of mourning & grief late summer & through Fall.)


With my buddy running the space doing what he could between his own paid work & the holidays, my studio was finally done in mid-January, but I’ve been in the midst of a big launch & website overhaul, so I just haven’t been able to get it in… Tomorrow I will go dig in & get organized. 🙏🏽


Who wants to come for a studio visit sometime?

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This. Hear me out, and then read the article. 15 minutes of your time. 20 with my comments below. Please read. (White people especially, even if you think you already know.) #racismisavirus

I've been quiet. I've gotta be honest. It's hard for me to get on social media and wish people "Happy" Mother's Day, Happy anything... hard for me to get on FB & IG and do my promos, keep up my marketing, offer posts of inspiration. On Instagram especially, I have cultivated a feed that is almost entirely positive and inspiring, both in those I follow and what I post. This was a mental health move. I shifted my social media presence over there mostly for a while, because I am an empath, I feel Everything, and Facebook was really stressing me out. But of course, sometimes it feels a bit disingenuous when part of me just wants to scream out "What in the Fuck is Wrong with (some White) People?" And I know my privilege is showing in a sense, in being able to cultivate a virtual world where people are good and just and creative and human and inclusive and loving of all. People of Color can do the same but ultimately still live with the effects of racism every day. Ultimately, I am here so to spread love, light, inspiration. But sometimes life feels so heavy. This past weekend was #AhmaudArbery's birthday, and Mother's Day. And I love being a mother, although I often have mixed feelings on any such holiday ( - that's for another post). But I just couldn't shake the waves of rage and sadness and incredulity that kept coming. #BreonnaTaylor is yet another person who was in my heart this weekend. And all the people who have been senselessly murdered, at the hands of cops, vigilantes, and this age-old Amerikkkan System of Racism. Thinking of their families, feeling the heartache of all the mothers who couldn't kiss their babies this weekend. "James Baldwin said that to be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time. What then, does it mean to be a White person in this country and to be outraged by the murder of this man?" Please don't take my silence as an omission of my rage. Because I have been outraged about this my whole life. My Scorpio rage is not going to be productive here or anywhere I've realized, so I redirect. And sometimes that means being outwardly quiet and tending fire, quite literally. But now, I appeal to you (fellow white people). I am grateful that even on FB, I am not personally connected with people who I think really need much convincing in this area, no one who is openly racist. But I don't discount there may be some lurking, friends from the past who I never really knew that well, people who may not consider themselves racist but are not in full acknowledgement of white supremacy and institutional and systemic racism either. Evidence of racism is everywhere though, especially on Facebook, displayed throughout the news, and then there is the so-called Presdent Drumpf who is plastered everywhere, which is one of the main reasons I largely ditched Facebook for awhile. I don't mean this as an accusation, but as another level for you to reflect on Reality, and how different it is for some folks than others based on the color of their skin or their ethnicity - Why is it that I need to come on here now and ask you to please, talk to your white relatives who are full-on racist, or have racist tendencies? "One of the most pernicious aspects of racism and white identity is that they are meant to be invisible. As a White person, your White identity and the structures that maintain White racial dominance are not meant to be discussed, uncovered, identified, or questioned. This is why you are not even named as White in books. You are so often the main characters that we just assume you are unless otherwise indicated. For a more robust and convincing discussion of that, see Toni Morrison’s Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination." Talk to your family members, your children, your parents and grandparents, and point out to them again and again instances of White Supremacy, instances of both blatant and covert racism, the ways in which it is insidious and creeps in to everything. Call out co-workers, acquaintances, anyone, any time it comes up, with a delivery method that is effective. When people are feeling attacked, they shut down. Try to make it personal, share a story or anecdote that might help them see what it would be like if the situation was reversed, if they were in the other person's shoes. Make them aware, the children especially, and encourage them to call it out, again, and again, and again. Dismantle that shit, brick by brick. "Now, many White people will dismiss even virulent and overt racism as a product of their upbringing in another era. As a professor, my students would regularly acknowledge outright family racists in the form of their grandparents, aunts, or elders. They would eschew confrontation at holiday gatherings or politely ignore the racist jokes and musings of Aunty Sally and Uncle Buck, and essentially excuse their behavior as a function of their age and having been raised 'in a different time.'" IT WAS WRONG THEN. IT'S WRONG NOW. IT WAS NEVER OK. Help them to see that. Don't excuse their behavior. Human beings are human beings. DUH. (We could get into Why racism is introduced - the age-old Divide & Conquer bullshit - but again, for another post, or as suggested in the article, do your research. 'How the Irish Became White' is a good place to start.) This is nothing new. I think you know that, and if you don't, wake up. Racism is older than apple pie; it is not something that was born in America, but this country is a prime example, from its inception. We should not even be needing to have this conversation. Not now, in the 21st century, and not ever. This was obvious to me as early as age 4 when my rationing mind began to process the entirety of human existence and I realized some people were treated differently than others. I am grateful to have been raised by a white man who was anti-racist and purposefully made me aware from the get-go, by his words and actions, that Black & Brown folks in this country were treated inhumanely to say the least (he told me plenty of true horror stories to drive the point home), we live in a White Supremacist society, and that we have a responsibility to do our part in turning that around. We have these tough conversations in my household. I am raising a daughter who is half black (Jamaican) and two boys who are by all standards white (although by the one-drop rule they would be black as well, as they are part Berber/Amazigh from the high Atlas mountains of Morocco). My daughter and I take every opportunity to make sure these boys see and understand their privilege and their responsibility to dismantle it by standing up to injustice and advocate for others when needed. I'm asking you to do your part. It could saves lives. Black people are tired of having this conversation. So. Fucking. Tired. But here we are, yet again, Taharee Jackson on Medium.com has taken time to lay it out for you - A Practical Guide for White Allies and Accomplices

. "...this piece is not about me. In fact, it’s not even for me. This is for White people who find themselves equally outraged by Ahmaud’s loss of life, and that of every unarmed Black man (we remember you, Walter Scott), woman (rest in peace, Sandra Bland), and trans person (bless your heart, Ashanti Carmon) who has lost their life not only to state-sanctioned, largely unpunished murder, but to racism itself. This piece is for White people who read these headlines, shake their heads in incredulity, and genuinely wonder what they can do. You know something is wrong. You know all these people died under blatantly suspicious circumstances. You don’t even need a 'deep down' feeling that something is amiss because the outrage of it all is superficial, right on the surface, and in plain view. You know precisely what is at play here and you are just as desperate as we are (people of color) to make it stop. You’ve come to the right place...." #mothersday #blacklivesmatter #blackisbeautiful #sayhername #equality #diversity #landofthefree #justiceforall #onerace #humanrace #loveoneanother #pachamama #dismantlewhitesupremacy #eachoneteachone


a toddler's legs have images, letters, and colors drawn on them; superhero shorts show the words HERO and a bit of a flying Superman
Painted Boy | BoundlessPhotoArts.net

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