When I headed out for my residency at STARworks I imagined that upon completion of Born Again I would crawl inside and cry. Cry and cry and cry and cry until there were no tears left. No more sadness from the past—mine or anyone else's I had carried, knowingly or unknowingly.
I did not. What I had imagined would happen as a natural release did not. And I could not, would not manufacture a waterfall where there wasn't one. Why? Why wasn't there one?
I am different. Wholly different than when I started Born Again months ago. I am the river that has been changed, is changing as the water continues to flow. I feel fundamentally empowered, stronger than ever. As if the heat of my own luminosity has dried the tears of wounding. The wounds have healed and my vision has cleared. The cloudiness that comes from crying to the point of dehydration was not in the cards. I've already played that hand. Game over.
Born Again did exactly as it promised it would. It bore the maker anew. Behold: a new creation.
After the last addition of clay I crawled inside and thanked her. Thanked this clay womb for birthing this sculptor. In response I heard these words: That which was created in the making is that much more than what was made.