The in-between

August 20, 2025

unedited-free write,

20 mins.

We are in the in-between, the limbo. I am in the in-between, the limbo, the void, between becoming and being. Several chapters of once old life have closed this year, closed? No, been shut, by my own hand and will. I thought the old life had completely died, but there were tendrils remaining, fibres of fungi made it way into my creative cortex.

The funny thing about being suddenly only reliant on the body as compass, is it's very loud and very certain and once tuned in and aligned, impossible to ignore.

What was once a place for me to organise, create, support, became a place of invisibility, unintentional malfeasance, were my value was not acknowledged, whilst serving the ego of others, was no longer part of my MO.

I have about 3-4 hours of functional energy a day, so must be very mindful of where that energy goes.

Initially I couldn't see it, or didn't want to believe it, but I was shown, again and again, and had those around me, that did see me, witnessed the effort, time and skill. The act of being witnessed by another, made all the difference.

Less than a month ago, I completed the academic portion of the CPCAB L4 portfolio. The thing, the goal that kept me going while i lay in bed, lay in studio. Case Studies, Research papers, weekly essays, theorist, so many theorists, learning how to write, again. Papers handed back, with a simple, criteria not met and NO.

A new friend, and respected colleague, reminded me yesterday of what I have recently completed, as I keep forgetting. At the studio, 2 works on the wall, one nearing completion, one that needs collaboration for completion, I know what it needs, but to put that on it, ensures it will never be shown in public, not that that has any baring on any of the work i have created in the last decade, but, you know...clear messaging and all that. It was a good reminder, as I had forgotten why I hadn't created a significant body of work this year, or last, as i have spent all my small time, reading, writing and editing. So much editing.

I keep having to start again from scratch, but only as my memory doesn't hold the entrails of what has been accomplished or known. Carl Jung talked of the life being divided in two, first half is ego, the second, letting go of that ego. Although for women, I will argue, we are trained to live without such strong ego, acts of service, so the undoing of ego, means something different.

It's been a challenge the last year, not in the sense of being bombed, displaced or starved. But personal illness, kiddo illness, walking away from something I helped to build. I've mostly removed my attention from social media, AI bots turning the internet into a cesspool of inaccurate information, and just no longer wanting to play into the para-social relational attention seeking fight for likes. Meta encouraging corporate coups, fucking with elections, and twitter being taken over by Felon, who has enabled an information fascist take over of the United States, well, you know, that and the bots being trained on anything and everything we put into that dimension. More on that later.

I no longer wish to have my brain tainted by the algorithm.

I digress...

I made a friend.

Nearly done the practical part of the diploma. Then another level, and either finishing the degree or doing the masters, but getting back to art and writing and collaborations to create magic, are on my list.

Those are things I can remember.

Peace and love. x x x