There are ghosts in the mirrors that I pass. They move swiftly in passages of windows and walls of reflection. They are held where I build my memories, house my discontent, and forge the very ideas that keep me thinking I am separated from you. A ghost is as thick as I am separated from God.

Between myself and God there is a gathering, a gathering at Her gate. To gather is to enter Her gate. I gather where Her matrix opens through the shadows which encircle the Tree of Life.

There is a circle of shadows beneath the tree. We are all this menses haunted dream; the recurring nightmare. She rows us around storms and quakes, Her oars studded to shine in the mind’s eye. All we can see is the slow pace of a journey with no end. Memories’ loop replaces the dusk with the ambiguity of broken symbols and disappointed looks, now more than ever.

These symbols. These broken symbols keep the past lingering in both lost and fond hopes, my soul searching it’s mirrored landscape until pieces no longer know how to return…And their light, my glowing soul takes, making animated these still and stagnant memories.

I have lived in moratorium, stagnant and halted by the expectations of ancestors and planted disguises upon which I stood like a silent clown waiting for a passerby to rewind my tomorrows and applaud my mimicry. Tinkering around in loops I heard the voice of a prophet, who was followed by a glowing door as She traveled between worlds. Her words, like no tongue from Earth summoned my attention “If you are sleeping, you are also awakening. As you are ascending so you are also descending. If you are stuck you also carry the gift to release yourself.” And I choked on my tears and sang a song that bubbled up in sobs and then I came to calm the drama of my heart , and rest into my stagnating steps. The light of Her presence began to penetrate my moratorium, and I was made to express again.


As I settle into the cold abyss the night seeds wait to take expression

Black luminous waters of bold depths, I am made from Her

Sinking into illumination I see an umbrella of wonder holding an ecstatic glow

And this glow, this overwhelming glow.

Stores gently in the hearth of my heart

All images and poetry by Phoebe Katherine Hunter.

A collection of sets gathered over time, inspired by my photographic and poetic journal entries. Each set shares a similar tone, feeling, and place.  

 

 

 

 

 

Original photographs captured at Métis Crossing residency. Phoebe Katherine Hunter, 2018.

When the aliveness froze and it was time for the ‘going in’ we left our garden where she stood at first snow fall. When the frozen flooded and it was time for the ‘re-awakening’ we found our garden full of seeds. She offered them up in perfect bouquets, fragrant stalks, and mystical shapes…

Digital collages of original photography by Phoebe Katherine Hunter, BFA

A variety of entries for a series that invokes the qualities and experiences concerning the relationship I have with dreaming, transparent realities, and multidimensional poetry serving to transcend the material world. I consider my experiences of a medial nature where symbolic expressions dominate my personal landscapes. 

~Phoebe

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On Color:

“I believe that color, sound, and scent can be used to activate the hidden centers in our etheric bodies. I believe they can also offer a break down and/or clearing of stagnation (fixation), distortion, the past, the future, and the tyranny of time.

I see tones of color and fluid geometry that train my ability to unlock my inner senses and my faculty of intuition. These tones present themselves as currents, and bring me eternal comfort.  (more…)