The river pulses; in places, churning against itself. It swivels unceremoniously over rocks, bending its body for swift and intimate passage.
This piece emerged from a curiosity about the irregular patterns of river’s current and what it might feel like to surrender my body to its pathways.
So much of the modern world is ordered; explored territory with predictable structure and measurable results. This order aids us in moving closer to the objects of our desire, securely and comfortably.
Nature, though governed by laws that we can examine, remains vastly unknown and unpredictable. The river represents this un-linear thrust of chaos – water churning and swirling in all directions, serpentining like a vein through the crust of the earth.
What might happen if I let go of control (the security of the riverbank) and surrendered my ability to direct my own path down the river? Where might I be carried that I could not get to with oars or a motor forging a linear route?
I began by considering what materials were closely connected with the river that I might use to create a structure to carry me.
Rivercane is a native species in the bamboo family in that grows along riverbanks. Native Americans in Appalachia have used the plant extensively. I learned to soak, split, rig, lash and weave the cane to make a basket in the shape of my body. This was a tedious process and a sharp learning curve. The repetitive task of using my hands to transform this material intimately acquainted me its properties– the smooth, hard skin; the way it turns from green to brown over time; its tendencies when splitting; its irregularity at each node; how its size color and the distance between nodes indicates its age.
(Learn more about rivercane here: https://appvoices.org/2001/06/01/2971/)
Laboring with my bare hands to transform the rivercane became an act of loving attention, forging a relationship with the plant. Crawling into the rivercane basket and releasing my weight into its form was an entrusting of the vulnerability of my body into this artifact of cultivated relationship. And in a way, this relationship extended to the ecosystem of the land surrounding the river.
I used rivercane’s larger, invasive cousin, bamboo, to create a raft. I gathered it from a nearby neighborhood and lashed it together in layers. The structure of the raft upheld the basket and sustained my weight in the water. It also served as a barrier between the vulnerability of my body and the rocks along the river.
The contrast of the random weave of the rivercane basket and the rigid, regular pattern of the bamboo raft, displays this tension of order and chaos. The contrast mirrors the human-built ecosystem of the ordered city and the wild unknown of the natural environment. Both are Nature and both are necessary for our survival as relational beings. Where we perhaps become misaligned is by making the city our center and trying to eradicate unpredictability with walls. In reality, the chaos of Nature is the core, the Source from which all else is built and it is the permeating vast mystery of our world.
It is in the space between order and chaos that we are called to move through the world. We must have the structures of order to tether and protect us, but we must also be willing to move out into the chaos of the unknown, to let curiosity lead us along unexpected pathways. If we do not, our frame will become rigid and we won’t be able to adapt and learn through the inevitable change and suffering of life. Surrendering into chaos allows us to be expanded by the potentiality all around and within us.
It is with this mindset that I lowered the raft into the water, curled up into the basket and untied the rope.
What I did not anticipate was, well, the unexpected. I knew to prepare myself for being whipped about by the irregular currents, but I did not know that having two friends follow me in a canoe to capture video footage would prove so difficult or that the current would be nearly completely dead at certain points. It ended up being a series of unfortunate events that disrupted my romanticized idea of experiencing a long meandering journey drifting down a river. The drone battery died before my friend could lock in on me, the second camera got dunked when my friend slipped and fell out of the boat, and most of my journey I had to be towed by the canoe– a naked, half shivering, half sunbaked, helpless passenger. After 5 hours on the river, I had only about 2 minutes of usable footage to testify to my artistic vision.
The moments during my river journey when I was able to release myself to the unpredictable gestures of the river, were ones of extreme disorientation. I was completely unmoored, turned around by the current so many times that I no longer had any point of reference. The direction of my “front facing” was never long aligned with the direction of my movement. When I looked up from my fetal position all I could see was swirling trees and sky, my visual experience of these elements mirrored by the rhythm of the river’s current – swift pivoting or unhurried spinning. It was an ineffable sensation that penetrated my mind, body and spirit.
We often fail to recognize that what is novel and of value often lies in places only accessed by being disoriented and traveling an un-linear path. We think order and asserting control can get us to a point in the flow of time where we think the object of our desire lies. We deem progress to be along the most efficient and expedited path.
The title of the piece, Dwell Within, suggests a re-entering of the womb, becoming infantile – helpless and exposed. This means acknowledging our own ignorance and honoring the mystery of existence. Offering my bare skin in the fetal position represents this posturing of submission to the dark waters of the womb. Cradled in the organic and disordered weave of the rivercane basket, and half submerged in the chaotic water of the river, my body became a physical witness to what it means to dwell in this place of unpredictable potentiality.
Dwell Within begs the question– within what? And this is precisely where I want to leave the viewer.
Do we dwell within the making of our own hands – the structure we build up around ourselves to securely and efficiently deliver our bodies to new shorelines?
Do we dwell within an unseen womb of protection born of a relationship of trust? Do we journey into chaos to let the harsh, unpredictable realities of life grow us and keep us malleable so that we might yield like water around rocks?
Do we surrender to the Divine pulse and align ourselves with Nature’s rhythms to carry us to places we could not plan or imagine?