By June Lucarotti.
Creative Expressive Arts Presentation
Michael Franklin says, “Be honest.”
And I thought about gradations of narcissism and the only real truth I can narrate being my own and how, if I dive deep enough into my truth, it will hit upon your truth, or their truth or our truth. (Right?) In your writing, be honest. But how does one try to be honest? Is there no feigning honesty in the act of trying. Always a word caught in my throat. A smile. A glance elsewhere. I was trying to be honest. And I failed.
I can’t write without prompts anymore. Without thinking about the container this exists in. Without sitting in the wrong bus seat and wondering if I should move elsewhere.
Gradations of narcissism. The tattoo. The image. Writing school to be completely selfish. Social work school to be completely selfless. I am not sure, actually, at this point, that I am capable of being completely anything. They blur together. I thought they might.
Be present. The more present you are, the more present your materials. The clay cold then warm when your hand is warm. The paintbrushes the pen the paper will respond.
But I am editing. I am not spilling anymore. Am I cutting to the bone of the most honest line? Tearing away unnecessary flesh. And then? Bare bone. Be honest. Nothing flexible about that.
Michael Franklin’s presentation delivered a refreshing perspective of art and healing, as if we sat with him looking from another side of the window lens. He asked us, quietly, in exposing his own experience, to come from simplicity. To stop coming from domination. I think he used the word “collaboration.” And this was not just in visual art, or writing, or healing, but in in being.