This gallery contains 14 photos.
From late June to early July, I visited the wilderness of the Porcupine Mountains, “the largest tract of old-growth hardwood forests west of the Adirondacks.” Black bear, gray wolf, bobcat, and porcupine are a few residents with Lake Superior as … Continue reading
Ceremony in Weris, Belgium, Nov. 2009.
This Sunday, June 23, the Gathered Drum Circle (fourth Sundays) and Drumming with the Moon (ad-hoc) converge for a special occasion! We are drumming by lakeside and fireside in the early evening near Greenville, Michigan. Not only is it Full Moon, but we are in the company of Summer Solstice! From Lansing, the carpool leaves about 5:00pm from a home-based location. If you have questions or would like details, please email me at MelissaHasbrookATgmailDOTcom.
For background, I began to host Drumming with the Moon last spring. The circle originated as a pre-event to a moon ceremony hosted by another teacher whom I respect deeply. Weather permitting, the circle has always been outdoors and, eventually, a fire became the center of the circle. Over the year, I’ve found that preparing the fire and circle area is very meditative, and helps create a centered space for those who join.
My vision for drumming as healing and a call to gather deepened in August 2012, after my first sojourn to Crow’s Nest Center for Shamanic Studies USA based in Dowagiac, Michigan. Bolstered by the affirming encouragement of a fellow participant (thanks, Nick!), upon returning home I began to learn from the drum — listening to it, traveling its sounds — which was a very new experience. Through solo drumming, insights surfaced to create a fire circle in my own space and to take the drum with me to Europe in the fall.
Each season of this year, it’s been a joy to sit with drummers — well practiced and brand new — across a variety of circles. The vision for my own fire circle took shape last fall and became the base for Drumming with the Moon, which meets intermittently depending when I’m in Lansing and regulars call out to circle up (thanks, K, P, and A!). In parallel, a network of circles emerged with co-facilitators Martha Kuepper of Anam Cara Services and Richard Lee, who also hosts a monthly healing circle called Meeting for Healing in conjunction with Red Cedar Friends (Quakers).
I’ve learned a lot from co-leading the Gathered Drum Circle with Martha and Richard, and am very grateful for their sticking with the experiment throughout the year! Whatever shape our circles may take in the coming seasons, lessons we’ve shared will continue to resonate when I drum. And I couldn’t encourage anyone more to really hear a drum, especially one whose path crosses your own and wants to go home with you! Or the drum you have the chance to make by hand. To truly drum is to truly listen — for in hearing the beat, we connect to the heart of the Earth and our own truth.
In close, I invite you to review my poem-poster titled “pause”, published here on DotP last fall as inspired by travels to Europe and accompanied by the Bee drum. Blessings!
My drum taking a sun bath..
Happy midsummer, DotP readers! Yes, the summer solstice is upon us in the Northern Hemisphere. Did you know that the longest day of the year actually stretches for three? Well, this morning I’m reflecting upon robins who nested by my fire circle, which I delightfully discovered last month while getting ready for Drumming with the Moon. It’s a first for a bird nest in that spot! The trestle with trumpet vine, both survivors of my maternal grandmother Margaret, who passed seven summers ago.
This second summer Stateside after many a summer in Belgium, I take special pleasure in experiencing the robin, who does not live in mainland Europe. Finding robin’s nest by the fire circle felt a blessing, in part, for the drumming itself: a pause in the whirlwind of life, a connection with what brings joy. My drum and I first crossed paths in a Flemish thrift store, and got to know one another by sunlight and candle light in the old, old farm house where we lived. Since then, the drum has become a teacher alongside my shamanic studies. Without a doubt, the beat soundly links where I’ve been, I am, and I’m going.
Robins in the trumpet vine…
Gathering drums around a fire and the moon came quite naturally after the rich experience of apprenticing with Colleen Deatsman. The drum continually serves as a source of uplift and renewal, bringing me back to robin eggs in the trumpet vine, a plant Grandma chose with the intention of attracting hummingbirds. The three delicate, powder-blue ovals were protected by a pair of adults, one at time. When the hatchlings appeared, they were surprisingly quiet, and as they grew, their collective size took up every nook of the nest. Last weekend the robins fledged — of course, while I was out of town! I heard that two of the three survived the flight into adulthood; the third was buried with respect.
One of the presses for paper making at the Kalamazoo Book Arts Center, where I’ve been taking classes. My studio is is in the same building — the Park Trades Center.
Now the nest is empty, and I consider possibilities of its use. Likely I will take the robin nest to my arts studio in Kalamazoo, where I’m gathering essentials for the material launch of my small press Femestiza. The press was but a dream with a name while I lived in Belgium, and a few years later in Michigan was symbolically launched via my poetry collection Circle…Home.
Looking back, I sit with the co-incidence of the Femestiza dream and meeting the drum. I see how their proximity was a coupling of sorts, a conception rippling across these subsequent years. The eggs are ready to hatch, and I’m eager to meet the featherless babes, aware that some will fledge while others will fall. All the while, I’m grateful for your presence as we watch what comes next together! My deepest thanks for your continued readership on DotP and support of this creative-healing adventure.
Greetings from South Haven! I am posting by mobile phone, a first for Dey of the Phoenix! It’s a sunny morning here at Lake Michigan, and I send you along a sun beam.
Tonight is Art Hop in Kalamazoo! It’s my first occasion tabling at my work base of Studio 208 in the Park Trades Center. So pay a visit between 6:00pm to. 9:00pm, and check out the wider offerings of this arts community! We’re housed in two buildings of the rennovated Saniwax warehouse. My building is the larger with four floors.
“The Vision Journal” will be available for viewing, and my poetry collection “Circle…Home” for sale. Registration for the worshop series “Heart to Art” will be on hand. Art work by my workshop collaborator Gin Salmon also will be for sale: intuitive paintings, beaded-fiber medicine bags, and drawing reproductions of 100-year-old faces.
This Friday is a good one to venture downtown Kzoo, with the art festival of the Kalamazoo Institute of Art. It’s Jubilee weekend as well. I’ll next be at Art Hop in August, if you hope to catch me next time!
And in Lansing on Saturday and Sunday afternoons at the Creole Gallery, be sure to catch “Go Figure!” until June 24. I have some studies exhibited that are for sale in this Working Women Artists’ annual show.
Today is the reception for the 2013 Working Women Artists’ fine arts show titled “Go Figure!” Come visit me and “The Vision Journal” between 1:00pm to 5:00pm at the Creole Gallery, 1218 Turner Street, Lansing, Michigan.
It’s the only day that my artist book will be shown at the month-long exhibit, while “falling apart, study I and II” are on the walls — and for sale! Otherwise, please visit the show on Saturdays and Sundays during June. As always, thanks for your support. Wishing you an inspired day!
For anyone interested, I wanted to invite you to some creative circles, which welcome all. No experience required! Just an openness to what intuition may inspire. Most take place at home-based locations, so please email me for addresses of interest: MelissaHabrook[at]gmail.com . Also, all the drum circles are free.
New this summer is a low-cost workshop series Heart to Art out of my art studio in Kalamazoo. Using varied media, we tap into our intuitions for shaping artistic creations. All sessions are on fourth Sundays from 1:00pm to 3:30pm: June 22, July 27, and August 24. My co-leader is Gin Salmon (painting, drawing, jewlery), who I met as a fellow apprentice of Colleen Deatsman (The Hallow Bone).
Drumming with the Moon of Lansing takes places outdoors with a fire and ceremony. I host the circle, and facilitate with the collaboration of regulars. Our next circle is tomorrow! Thursday, May 30, at 7:30pm. In case of inclement weather, we head indoors. The meetings are periodic, and will continue to be announced here on Dey of the Phoenix.
The Writing Room offers self-directed writing in a group context, followed by feedback if so desired. The Lansing-based circle welcomes all genres and supports the writer’s goals in shaping text. My co-facilitators are Sandra Cade and Claire Vallotton. We next meet on Friday, May 31, from 1:00pm to 5:00pm, for an extended session.
The Ongoing Journey Circle is offered by Martha Kuepper of Anam Cara Services in Lansing on first Wednesdays at 7:00pm, the next being June 5. The main purpose of the circle is deepening one’s spiritual practice. I met Martha also as a fellow apprentice of Colleen Deatsman (The Hallow Bone), and we have been hosting a network of drum circles since fall of 2012.
The Gathered Drum Circle is co-led by Richard Lee, Martha Kuepper, and myself in Lansing on fourth Sundays at 7:00pm indoors, with the exception of this month. On June 23, we meet at 5:00pm to carpool to Ionia for drumming by a lake. And what a weekend to drum with Summer Solstice and Full Moon!
“Rebirthing”, mixed-media collage.
Greetings readers! It’s hard to believe that a couple of months have passed since my last entry on Dey of the Phoenix. Thanks for your patience. How is 2013 evolving for you? I am optimistic of what’s coming next, especially with what I found in my backyard this week: a robin’s nest in the trumpeter vine! Three blue eggs are awaiting their time…
Spring brought about change, as I moved floors at the Park Trades Center of Kalamazoo. My work base now is Studio 208, which is open to the public on first Fridays for Art Hop. (For Lansing folks, Art Hop is like Gallery Walk on first Sundays.) Most weeks I am at the studio for a few days. So if you would like to stop by sometime, send me a line at MelissaHasbrook[at]gmail.com!
During winter I blogged about my artist’s book “The Vision Journal,” a work that continues to expand. New pages are ready since its debut in April. The current version will be viewable in the coming week. These appearances are a first of sorts, so please pay me a visit if you’re able to swing it!
Another “move” took place just this month on Facebook. I created an artist page for anyone who would like to connect by social media. The address is like this web site — http://facebook.com/deyofthephoenix. Please drop by and “like” the new endeavor. As always, your support is most appreciated!
And make no mistake! There is much support energizing these creative expressions. The steadfast encouragement of loved ones; gatherings among community; circles for dancing, drumming, writing, and healing. Collectively, the links are spun into my favorite of spirals — a spider’s web, a theme throughout “The Vision Journal.”
Resonating with this spiral and the mixed-media collage pictured above, I close by sharing a poem. Originally titled “Spider,” I have renamed it “Birth.” The word art spun from encounters with Spider last December, and the collage emerged months later. The poem is rendered as a letterpress print from a class I took over winter.
Sitting on the floor, eyes closed, I am encircled by paint, brushes, paper. “Where am I?” is the question of my heart. Images emerge . . . deep dark waters, constantly rocking . . . a body of white light swims forward, embraced by the back-and-forth flow.
I open my eyes, reach for colors to paint these waters, undulating like countless black snakes. Then the radiant body, who is me braving a mysterious sea. While painting, I see another figure: Turtle. She guides me, protects me, and knows this ocean.
The painting dries, and I paste it onto a larger sheet, framing the image with pieces of torn golden paper. The pieces take on a new shape and purpose — partly safeguard, partly container — for a vulnerable process. This is transformation of the most intimate kind . . .
Three months ago, I began the intentional work of partnering the creative and healing arts. This painting was the partnership’s first expression, symbolizing how I pictured myself about to dive into the process. All five paintings from the project share a background of “dark waters”, which I came to understand as representing trauma or rather — as framed by resources on the topic — memories of trauma.
The process started on retreat at Crow’s Nest Center USA accompanied by the Vision Journal: a scrapbook with select entries of mixed-media collage by artist Altered Attitude. The imagery and quotes resonated my pursuit of healing work and making art, offering a home of sorts for snapshots of the process. Yet what transpired was much more than affixing keepsakes into a ready-made binder.
The Vision Journal became a vehicle. I removed the spiral binding and began moving around the pages, exploring symmetries between its story and this healing journey. My paintings synced with messages from Altered Attitude, offering guideposts across the passage of pages. The endeavor is culminating as book art — or an artist’s book — sequencing poetry, mixed media, and collage.
In anticipation of the book’s completion, I will be making briefer posts about its contents and/or process throughout March. The project is in its concluding stage, with collages choreographed for final placement and the ultimate act of binding it all together. This work will debut at Lansing’s Take Back the Night art exhibit.
The exhibit will be open most weekdays in April at the LookOut! Gallery, Snyder-Phillips Hall (Residential College in the Arts and Humanities), second floor, Michigan State University. The opening reception is Wednesday, April 3, from 10am to 2pm. You are most welcome to join me and the other artists from the show!
As part of the workshops at Crow’s Nest Center USA, we are gifted with stories from the fire guardian Bob. The most recent sharing planted a question, along with the teaching by workshop leader C. Michael Smith: What are you “of”? This query is not the standard measure by which many make small talk about the Job (“What do you do?”), the Family (“Do you have kids?”), Geography (“Where are you from?), or Racial-Ethnic Origins (“What are you?”).
“What are you of?”resonates much deeper than the surface skated over dinner-table introductions, which I find myself at a loss for these days. Neither my work (“A Portal…” 2012) nor my identity (“Cherokee” 2008) is summed up by categories or catch phrases. And while I take pleasure not fitting in boxes easily offered, casual exchanges can become … interesting when someone’s curiosity is left unsatiated.
This inward look at being and being “of” took root quite awhile ago. From a young age, I asked about the meaning of life, including my own. The quest went dynamic during my last leg of grad school (“A Prelude to ‘Discursive Earthquakes’” 2004), and truly plunged after breaking off that last institutional affiliation more than six years ago. Writing was clearly the next direction, although learning to walk that path took time and innovation.
Writing continues to be a foundation for much of what I do, yet it no longer is a catch-all (… and I reflect that is never was). This transformation of my creative process crystallized during a Crow’s Nest workshop in Belgium last fall. My heart beat these truths: who I am is not what I do, and what I do does not require a label. In other words, I need not fixate on what to call my work, nor limit this work to what is considered “work” in the wider world. The path is mine to shape.
The question that surfaced strongly for me during that fall workshop was, “What brings me joy?” Since then, I aim to be of joy, a sense that where I am in a given moment is the place to be. Am I of joy, though? Sometimes. Often in the creative process I experience uplift, altering the perception of challenge into opportunity. Often drumming and shamanic journeying transform angst into peace. Being in a community or circle in which I give and receive is a joyful experience … as is being with my dogs!
Maybe you can relate to my pause in the face of simple questions like, “What do you do?” since simple answers are far from my experience these days. For instance, there is no day job that defines me, nor anyone else for that matter. My present work is to bring a certain book art into being, to give over to the process that unfolds, a creative-healing adventure that mixes media and genre. As a seeker, my quest is to follow that inner compass of joy.
No need to answer me, dear readers, but may the question, “What are you of?” offer a chance to pause, unlike the dinner-side table talk. May joy speak to you, and may you hear its voice!
Recent events brought my prayer-poem “Give Away” to mind. The annual newcomers potluck with my Quaker community at Red Cedar Friends Meeting, as we enjoyed a round-robin gift exchange with stories. Also, the last workshop at Crow’s Nest Center USA, when I brought gifts for the community in celebration of my birthday and where this beautiful image presented itself for a picture.
The poem did not come into being, though, through the joys of gifting. It emerged during a writing workshop I presented for survivors of violence. Here give away is a release of pain, fear, suffering. This letting go serves as a transformation of old habits that replay old outcomes. In the context of trauma, one no longer is frozen on a web but freed up to face challenges. And the process can continue into reflection of what comes to pass after the fact — to see where change has taken place, even if baby steps.
In “Give Away, Revisited” I explore words in motion and in relation to the Earth. Respect is paid to the spiral dance: the spiral of living and dying; acts that create and destroy; the good, the bad, and the ugly. The spiral dance is about seeking balance; it is not always comfortable. Also, the spiral dance does not revolve around black-and-white notions of good and evil. Because the spiral dance encompasses all of the facets that we embody, as well as encounter along our path.
The wisdom of the spiral dance as balance first came to me through The Cherokee Full Circle: A Practical Guide to Sacred Ceremonies and Traditions. I am grateful to present-day teachers who flesh out the bones of these lessons. Each lesson takes on a new expression through partnering the healing and creative arts. The dance unfurls by following the lead of Spirit, image, word, materials. And every expression is a realization unto itself.
May “Give Away, Revisited” serve you somehow in the spiral dance!
