This piece was first published on The Weekly Service website, where Rose is an artist in residence.
At the service on 18 September, called "Moments of Showing Up", Michelle Morgan shared how she manages to show up in moments of uncertainty in her own creative practice as an artist, studying art therapy and offering clinical pastoral care - non-religious spiritual support to people in hospital.
It was a strange experience for me.
We are in lockdown in Melbourne, so the service was online.
The hairs on my arms were standing up and my stomach was churning at the sound of angry buzzing police helicopters overhead, surveying anti-lockdown protestors.
I was connected with a group of warm-hearted friendly people on my screen. Off screen, I was physically alone, and my body was telling me I was in danger.
I smiled (concentrating hard to make sure it didn’t come across as a grimace) and concentrated on planting my feet as flat to the ground as I could, uncurling my toes, willing my belly calm, elongating my out breaths.
I internally sighed at the irony of my struggling so much to show up in the moment, when that was the theme of the service.
I made a painting as I listened
As Michelle spoke, I was watching and noticing how my feelings in my physical body changed, immersing myself in the motion of drips and colours melting into each other, and the calming repetition of drawing circles with my non-dominant hand (a response to Michelle's sharing of her mandala practice, and the release that circles have provided her).
Close up of “Uncertainty”, mixed media on paper, 42cm x 29.7cm ~ 16.5” x 11.7”, vibrant abstract expressionist painting by Rose Wintergreen, 2021
I focused on letting go of control, letting whatever colours and marks wanted to come out come out, letting my hand and brush follow the threads and push and pulls of the story.
Mauve for the quiet moments of asking a higher power for solidarity and strength on the hard days, flashes of yellow for the unexpected laughs shared with patients, lighter tracks of eddying grey lead pencil for the paths connecting it all, chains of little circles…
Close up of “Uncertainty”, mixed media on paper, 42cm x 29.7cm ~ 16.5” x 11.7”, vibrant abstract expressionist painting by Rose Wintergreen, 2021
Close up of “Uncertainty”, mixed media on paper, 42cm x 29.7cm ~ 16.5” x 11.7”, vibrant abstract expressionist painting by Rose Wintergreen, 2021
When it came time for breakout rooms (Michelle had finished her story, and there was an opportunity to join a small group for reflection and discussion), I opted out, to let it all sink in quietly.
I got my hairdryer out to dry the painting so I would be able to hold it up and show everyone when they came out. I hummed as it whirred.
A melody arrived…
It unfurled out of my mouth as I moved the hairdryer across the page, drying each little pool of colour in turn.
I managed to scrawl some notes of the words and sing it for everyone when we came back together for sharing. It wasn’t recorded.
After the session ended, I sung it again and recorded it into my phone before I would forget it.
The helicopters are buzzing again today, but I have been showing up for myself by making music. I opened my music program, imported the recording I made on my phone, and have transformed it into a fully structured recorded track.
The song that arrived - “Uncertainty”
I've combined the original lead melody with the sound of a pedestrian light crossing opposite the National Gallery of Victoria I recorded on a lockdown walk a month or so ago. I was mesmerised by the calming nature of its repetition, the comfort of the familiarity of the sound, the way it kept circling back again and again.
You may notice a tram and a seagull in the background, and a single car passing by. (I have repeated them throughout.) A strange juxtaposition of familiarity and eerie dystopia; usually this spot would be full of the sounds of happy pedestrians, lots of traffic noise, the sound of music playing from the tinny coffee shop speakers out the front of the Arts Centre, and people whizzing past on bicycles and electric scooters.
The uncertainty of this time seems never-ending, but I am eternally grateful for being a part of The Weekly Service community.
I keep coming back, and it keeps helping me circle back to myself and what really matters: showing up and connecting authentically with other humans, holding space for what is, even if it is messy sometimes.
Thank you for sharing your story about how you do this, Michelle. It was exactly what I needed.
Lyrics
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty follows me
No matter how hard I try
I can try to live
All my days
In a straight line
But the only thing certain
Is that life will keep shifting and turning
Maybe I can throw my arms in a circle
And hold myself as I keep learning…
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty follows me
No matter how hard I try
I can try to live
All my days
In a straight line
But the only thing certain
Is that life will keep shifting and turning
Maybe I can throw my arms in a circle
Hold myself as I keep learning…
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty follows me
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty
Uncertainty follows me
Love,
(One of the artists in residence this season)