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Articles from October 2018

Published October 9, 2018

wildness

When I see her, she is a wild, unruly mess of skirts and scarves, hair and laughter, gesture and motion — with facial expressions so alive and fiery they could awaken the drowsiest of dragons. She is neither young nor old, though everyone tries to label her, judging her actions unsuitable regardless of what age they choose. Her words have a frenzy of meaning when they are spoken calmly, and a serenity of meaning when they are spoken fast. They are the kinds of words that sink mountains one letter at a time, free caged birds, bring flowers into full bloom, and are either celebrated or cursed depending on the state of the listener. Her feet are always dancing, her hips always swaying, her eyes always flashing. She has a weedy tenacity that grows in heat, cold, drought or swamp, and doubles in strength when no one is looking. She refuses cultivation (except when it happens to feel right), and only goes with the flow when it’s going the same way she is. She wonders loudly about the complacency of the world, dragging its feet through another pre-rehearsed day — and wants more than anything to shake things up, to expose the joy and wildness she suspects are there.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published October 1, 2018

gifts of imperfection

This second hand dress, with its tiny tear along the hemline and extra threads where the hook and eye have been reinforced more than once, fits me perfectly in size and character. A new dress with this many details and such beautiful but delicate material would go around and around in circles from my closet to a test-fitting in front of the mirror and back again, destined to never be worn for fear of damaging it. But I can slide into an already used dress, with its gifts of imperfection, on the same day it comes home with me. I can take it for a gentle walk in the woods, wear it while practicing harmonium sitting cross legged on the floor, stuff it into a knapsack and fly it across the world. It’s the fear of the first fluff ball, the first pull, the first hint of a sweat stain that relegates a dress to life in my cupboard. But a second hand dress is already free. Already beautiful in it’s own unique way. Already broken in. Like me.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

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