Mette Tommerup invited me to interact with her exhibition “Made at Dusk”, at Locust Projects. It was a surreal experience that reminded me what I love doing the most, which is braiding words, art and performance into one. Below the poem I wrote for Freya, and to all those Goddesses that have been forgotten.
To a God.dess unknown
Divinity unfolds itself, from universal to individual
In the year and day,
of darkness and fog.
Before there were days,
or years to be counted,
you didn’t see me,
but you knew I was there.
I was there.
You knew I was there.
Duality, intuition, feeling.
Deep wisdom,
that comes from within.
From within.
It comes from within.
You still don’t see me?
You don’t?
That feminine power,
Open. Awake. Silence your fears.
The moon: Ixchel.
She’s shinning. Made at Dusk
And yet, she’s feared. She’s unpredictable.
Unpredictable.
Can you see me now?
I see you.
Do you remember me?
Woman. Spirit. I am you.
YOU.
The goddess within.
Remember.
Freya, Hera, Athena, Afrodita, Pachanmama, Gaia, Virgen Divina, Selene. Coyolxauhqui.
But the Goddess vanished.
Only the male side could be worshiped.
Only the male side of God remained.
The braided circles of community we built,
were turned into lines of power.
Hierarchy.
Their hopes and dreams.
Her hopes and dreams.
Those who celebrated the feminine spirit,
killed. silenced. destroyed.
Generations after generations, after generations.
From our mothers, to our daughters.
Generations after generations, after generations.
Their hopes and dreams.
We remember. Remember.
Remember. We remember.
Help me remember.
Today we remember.
You must remember.
Connection to nature.
Your intuition and feeling.
We remember.
Tonight we do.
Made at Dusk.
Remember.
Just promise me that,
you will try to remember.
And as we remember,
we find a way,
we must find a way,
to braid ourselves,
together.
To see the invisible thread,
that braids us together.
The goddess within.
Remember.
Freya, Era, Athena, Afrodita, Pachanmama, Gaia, Virgen Divina, Selene. Coyolxauhqui.
But the Goddess vanished.
Only the male side could be worshiped.
Only the male side of God remained.
The braided circles of community we built,
were turned into lines of power.
Hierarchy.
Their hopes and dreams.
Her hopes and dreams.
Those who celebrated the feminine spirit,
killed. silenced. destroyed.
Generations after generations, after generations.
From our mothers, to our daughters.
Generations after generations, after generations.
Their hopes and dreams.
We remember. Remember.
Remember. We remember.
Help me remember.
Today we remember.
You must remember.
Connection to nature.
Your intuition and feeling.
We remember.
Tonight we do.
Made at Dusk.
Remember.
Just promise me that,
you will try to remember.
And as we remember,
we find a way,
we must find a way,
to braid ourselves,
together.
To see the invisible thread,
that braids us together.
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