Ive been quite fortunate to avoid organized religion for most of my life, mostly serving as witness to others not so fortunate. Witnessing the guilt, the warped sexuality, the unreasonable expectations of perfection, confusion, and gaslighting, passed down from generation to generation. I did meet a priest once that I really connected with. He was a 21-year-old Tennessee Walker named Black. With the personality of a Southern dandy, he stood in a rain squall and bore witness to me falling apart in grief after my grandmother passed. That same week, I had a dream, and in that dream, Black told me stories from his previous life as a Priest and how honored he was to continue his work in his current, freer form.
How can you free yourself from someone else’s narrative about you?
- Subject Matter: Self-Portrait