Emilie Nelson Photography

from Claire

i feel small and the world feels big. is this fear or humility?

reality is an illusion. it’s always in motion. who was i to believe it was ever standing still?

how quickly things change. how temporary this life is. how temporary this all is.

here and than gone. here and than gone. this moment feels much more here than gone... but that’s because i am in it.

craving some wild light and lush greens. four walls and empty spaces was never our designed enclosure.

it’s very odd to see the world stand still. but i am beginning to think that we had turned into a species of human”doings” rather than human”beings”.

in truth, i am realizing that so little of life was ever in our control to begin with - not our plans, our futures, the health of our loved ones, even our very aliveness. control is a deceiving illusion... allowing us to believe that there is some semblance of order in the world, that it isn’t all chaotic and wildly unpredictable and, to that end, terrifying. and at this moment, the veil has been lifted and we can truly see just how futile our attempts at control really are. how it was never all in our hands. but the few things that are, TRULY, in our control remain: •

our intentions.

our actions.

our responses.

life will continue to ebb and flow. people are people that are constantly contributing to an ever changing environment. the world will continue to shift. and time will keep moving.

so instead of white knuckling the illusion of control, why don’t you loosen the grip?

from Lauryn

Disjointed thoughts on pandemic dance and social media

My priorities have changed, and the way I view myself in relation to what I have been told is important has changed as well. School seems like this abstract concept that no longer affects my reality and I guess the same could be said for my social media presence. I don’t care about what it means for my career, or what it means in relation to my peers because it never really mattered anyway. The feeling is what matters, the art is what matters. Dancing in one’s kitchen can be a set back to the socially curated persona, but it could also be a testament to the resilience of the person behind the facade. This time has taught me to stop looking at the external validation of what feels right, and to appreciate the experience it gave me because nothing really matters anyway. The components of our systematically dependent lifestyles have now revealed themselves to be social constructs (money, time, capitalistic economic interests), so what is to say that the value of an artistic persona won’t depreciate as well?

from Ansley

Have we reached a place where we are losing the tangible hugs... everything that we care about is so fragile.

Nothing is permanent I find myself coming back to this, nothing is permanent yet we are always trying sensationalize everything. As a dancer especially now I am rethinking everything, the art form I fell in love with is centered around the idea of ephemerality and live connection between the artist and the spectator.

I feel like every virtual connection not matter how genuine is still distant. So much frustration and so much uncertainty.

I have not had a chance to be bored yet because endless assignments and projects that keep my mind stretched, and I wonder if maybe if I was bored for just one minute then maybe I could understand the reality of our situation. I think everyone wants to distract.

from Bailey

To be a light; an electrical, fluid form

To be an integral aspect

A wake up call

Repositioned
Heavenly bodies on Earth

A building wave of unprecedented energetic light

Changing of frequency and divine shifts
New patterning of light consciousness

Interacting with this essence

Energetic grids actively expanding

Series of realignment cycles
A pivotal time of transition

Generating a flow that opens doorways that have been closed

Gaining important insights into your unique purpose

Attaining empowerment through self-healing

The re-emergence of sacred components

Maintaining stability by utilizing the heart connection

Enabling a deep resonance with Earth’s multidimensional nature

Dissolving timelines and old perceptions
The illusion of limitations

A great need to let go and allow

Opening an internal vibration of light

Enabling humanity

from Mya

Absence of what I knew before

Presence in what I feel within

I have found the greatest treasure

and that is what’s inside of me

still finding it hard to be free

there is nothing else that I need

emotions throw me over

to a crash course into source

I'm learning

and now I know

Individually aligned

from Beatriz

March 19, 2020 - Excerpts

A shot at abstraction, to avoid abstracting myself

Noise

I fear that what I say gets lost in it

Or that what I say adds to it.

Losing the fear of disruption

Linearity is overestimated

Minimally distracting, minimally producing

Whatever all of this means

Whenever all this ends

it will never be the same

Maybe that's a good thing

But I do have quite a big fear of unfinished

things

Things, sometimes you really can't find a better word

It is day two, I'm not as hungry.

I miss New York

And

. Silence.

Afraid of the noise, but afraid of the silence

I'll try to get some sun tomorrow

It's day two

It's night two.

, actually no.

It's day two.

March 28, 2020 - Excerpts

I'm telling myself it's okay to feel how I feel

It's okay that I don't feel inclined to make, it's okay I want to feel still right now

I'm choosing to step back

To allow the voices that want to speak up to have volume, and to decrease the noise

It is so easy to feel lost in the noise

But this world, and these feeling feel so alien to me

If I can, then it will mean for me that my art will always be there

That is what I need for me

For me and only me

I am recognizing that I am not okay

I am not saying it's bad to feel fragile

I feel fragile and that's okay

from Eleanor

drifting

we begin again (in some capacity)

spiraling

everthingfeelslikearunonsentencewithnobeginningsorendingsorpausesjustgoinggoingoingoing

i’m letting go

trying. falling. drifting (repeat againagainagain)

it’s difficult. i’m still trying to figure out how to _______ with ease and patience

everything feels so distant

memories of ‘better times’ cloud my mind and jumble together

all together now (please and no thank you)

why can’t we pause?

learning from this distant space

adapting, changing, beginning again

it’s uncomfortable. being embraced by the unfamiliar. a reallyyyy tight embrace.

i’ve started to realize it’s ok to feel whatever I’m feeling. i fluctuate

how to stay in the present when the past tastes so sweet?

i feel lost

i like to think somewhere in the clouds. they look so comforting

i catch myself trying to piece something together. to make sense out of something.

holding on to what is left

dreaming

i’ve started to let myself drift into a distant time and space. an escape. anyways, i let myself. it feels so freeing to do something whole heartedly for yourself

wanting less i’s and more we’s

from Maya

lost & found

a place where lost things go to be found

I am in a box on the floor in the back of an unknown building in the middle of nowhere. I lay next to a dull pencil, an abandoned teddy bear, someone’s favorite hat, an umbrella that would not cover you from the rain, and one sock. Representations and reflections of myself.

Something that works but not quite, full of love for people that are no longer nearby, deceptively alright but upon opening evidently broken. Missing and missed by others.

I am sitting in a box, lost. Waiting to be found.

in the meantime, I am finding

Found time. To think, to explore, to embark on a journey of self-discovery. To try something new, to create something great.

so much lost, yet so much found

from Kayleigh

Turquoise Ocean

Fragmentation implies something lost, pieces never truly whole again.

But sea glass was once someone’s empty bottle

That spent years tumbling on the ocean floor

Returning a turquoise gem in a shoreline of tans

Sea glass isn’t broken but evolved

And sometimes we break

But I am hoping to be my own ocean

A Shattering

A fraction or a fragment,

The sounds of glass breaking fill my ear.

My hands hang in the air, fingertips curled

I stare at the mess at my feet.

How can it so easily slip away?

No longer mine any longer.

All that remains are pieces.