Celia’s Studio
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@celiasstudio
I will be your vessel
November 29 - December 3, 2022
There is a world of ruins and dampness.
Within its fluctuations we sink
Within it’s wetness we grow
pouring ourselves onto one another
The coolness envelopes in laps
We find our own immortality through our pouring;
through the circulation of the wet,
the reclamation of severed roots and physical vastness
the taming of fires
Standing tall with swelling eyes
as the mangroves burn
as divots deepen and web across your skin
I tell you, “They’re so beautiful”
Time and again, we will allow ourselves the grace of tenderness,
permissions silently exchanged
A mother asking ”are you okay?”
A father’s hand on the shoulder
Our toes will curl into mud, resting within an infinite system
It is a gift, it is a gift
that of being pushed and pulled, filled and emptied, solidified and melted
stretching far with grief only to return home
We pour and we pour.
Artist’s Note
“I will be your vessel” marks a liminal place of aching, mourning, healing, and reclamation. Amidst collapsing ecosystems, a living, breathing network arises. The bodies who rest in this space carry the weight of decay. They feel their limbs tighten as the trees burn. Their mouths dry up as the wetlands evaporate.
Those who inhabit this oasis flow with and through each other. They push and pull alongside the earth’s fluctuating systems. They listen to one another and the ground beneath them, they carry each other, they hold onto one another’s traumas when the other struggles to bear the weight. Their bodies form a canopy of interconnected limbs, one that rises and falls with the changing seasons. They serve as the earth’s vessel, memorializing the soil, the wet, and the growth. They are each others’ vessels, too, taking turns carrying, embracing, and pouring.
DRAWING
