Let’s be clear, the me that is here in this moment, tapping on this keyboard, in this time-space coordinate of physical reality, is a rookie. A total artistic novice that has no clue what she is doing. EVERYTHING is an experiment. And every particle of self is kicking my arse like a can, down a very specific road of my own architecting, causing layer upon layer of dense frequency energy to unwind, loosen, undo and transmute, pattern after pattern, that can no longer insidiously repeat, ad infinitum, because they are now transmuting through this image I have projected me into that is now tapping away here wondering what she has gotten herself into. I am being schlepped, by some other version of me, through this time space portal, into a future I never before dared dream possible.
Somehow, as I architect a reality in which I am now apparently an artist, I have found myself boldly registered for, the annual Taranaki Art’s Trail — which so happens to be in it’s tenth anniversary, bringing a projected number of visitors to our wee town (and now potentially to my house) to the tune of 100,000 plus.
Wtf was I thinking? (screams someone within not so bold).
Oh that’s right, it wasn’t the me sitting here freaking out about said thing still on it’s way to happening, that was doing the thinking. It was the seed planted within me, long before I appeared in this time-space co-ordinate, that is now opening and pouring forth the waterfall of plans drawn by the artist that is now rewriting my future through the windy, dubious, curious path of exploration – where this architect-self is now taking her seat behind the steering wheel in the front of the bus.
Buckle up anxious, fearful, doubtful, naysaying manipulative, controlling pieces of reality… you can try to hold on, but you’re on the ride that will disintegrate your arse from the inside out in, not just my experience of reality, but reality in general. Your time with airplay has expired. You are now obsolete to me – and humanity.
And so enters this years body of haphazard, discombobulated, unrefined, rookie work- that has just informed my critical, naysaying, doubtful self, that moving forward it wants to herby be referred to as . . . The Garage Collection
It tells me that as I do what brings me joy I light up from the inside out out, activating the frequency I carry (as do you too), with which I can turn on and off timelines, that I do and don’t, want to live. The Garage Collection is my experience of reaching inside questions yet to be answered. It reveals the unspent dreams of a shipwrecked past and all the uncertainty, change and recalibration that is literally rewriting the future through this insidiously, singly-focused obsession with paint. This first year of work – is bookmarked by the tenth anniversary of a dam art trail that I am shocked to find I have committed to. This path is a foreign, twisting, rocky trek through the heart door to my next greatest seed, since the miraculous birth of my currently five year old son.
Now it’s time to birth the next version of me.
As Carmel Boone unfurls her way into this wild, manic and magical world through the endless revealing of infinite possibility, I meet my future artist offering up a style and expression, still opaque to me, but now wafting its way through the ethers to come on line in this earthly experience.
She unfurls slowly, consistently and haphazardly, somehow patiently, like Nature, one canvas battle at a time…. the more finely honed channel of the me who is emerging through each, beckoning my attention, to linger with the dawning, that the future, is finally here.
I’m excited to step into her now that more of me is prepared to show up to her, than is doubting her. I’m excited to trust her, to trust this unfurling process called LIFE, knowing that whatever it seems is happening, what is actually happening, is my own creation.
The Garage Collection corals the children birthed through my first year of art – the work that will teach me to lean into the seeds buried within me millennia ago, for now they are opening to unfurl the full spectrum of my me who is here to rewrite my future through art.
I wonder what next years collection will be called?
But that’s not yet, that’s next year… for now…. this years collection is in gestation and this rookie is in labor.
The Art Trail runs for ten days from the 27th of October 2023.
I look forward to seeing you there
I feel new here
the path undefined
yet a gold frequency illuminates
from within
reflecting the path
beneath my feet
lighting the way
as each step
is placed
Don’t look too far ahead
things change
right under our feet
we go up
we go down
neither direction
bad or wrong
just the right thing
unfurling
even when it seems
so murky
out there
the light within
lights the way
Burn so bright
nothing dark
can stand
for newness is emerging
through what rises and falls
you are new
I am new
we are here for things
we have yet to know
Islands of hope
filled with
and by
love
are everywhere
much love
Carmel Boone
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