Art is.

Art is terrifying. Words are easier, although still scary sometimes. Poems more so than prose. Yet both of them still come out more fully formed, and so come equipped with a thicker skin, or I do when I make them. My intellect stands guard in some way, gives me a little distance. Just enough to breath.

Art, visual especially, and music as well as I think about this, are different for me; maybe different forms are different for each person. The cliche’ of putting your soul out there unprotected for other people to view and judge, is very real. It’s why, I now realize, that I haven’t been doing as much of it or sharing anything I had done, until very recently.

This started to change when I had to confront my own mortality this year. When I had to make decisions about what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Questions I never thought the whole world would be asking itself a month or two later.

When I was growing up I was always a visual artist, I embraced it, was confident in what I did to some degree. It was part of my identity. I was less secure in music at the time, and spent more years refining those skills in college and after.

When I got older I still did visual art but it was more to accompany my other projects. I did things that didn’t focus on the art, I used it to frame and hold my other works. I’d add it to my book here and there or put it on a webpage in a graphic or an ad, on a video; use it as part of a class, always as an addendum to another project. I think I felt that unless I had the medium I was used to, I couldn’t really do it. So I’d doodle or add a flourish here and there, or I’d save it to a file somewhere. Now I know why.

Doing my art as it’s own end, it’s own creation, is terrifying. Well perhaps not the doing of it, but the showing of it, feels like being vulnerable in a way I have spent a lifetime avoiding. It’s like there is no separation, it’s not intellectual, it’s not teaching or explaining something, it’s not being “useful” in a “must go to work” societal way, it’s this raw expression, just a part of me that exists for no other reason than to exist. By showing it, even in a casual way, invites the possibility that no one will like it at all. Or that they will.

It’s about being seen somehow. I’ve always known this to be true on some level, but it was visceral today. When someone said they liked something, it was so surprising, and so joyous, I felt like tinker-bell coming back to life when someone clapped.

I can’t make art for approval it’s not why I do it, I do art because I love to do it and because, as I’ve learned, I have to do it to survive, like breathing. Even so, at the same time it’s amazing how vulnerable it makes me feel to share it, wondering if anyone will see me, confirm in some way that I’m real, even if, or especially if, I’m not trying to please them. Yep Art is freaking terrifying.

And that’s OK.

Erika Ginnis

April 3, 2020

Tree of Life Meditation by Erika Ginnis. Recorded at Center for Spiritual Living East Hawaii March 22, 2020

Aloha All,

Hope you are safe and well and surfing the energy of the great waves of change.

Here is a short 6 minute Tree of Life meditation from a couple weeks ago, to help during these challenging times of incredible expansion even in the midst of our personal isolation.

Thank you Adam Lightplay​ for recording this and sending it to me, and for upgrading the sound from that Sunday.

Blessings and Aloha,
Erika

“Essential Mysteries write it down” how Astral marketing blew me away.

The most amazing thing happened to me last month! Some of you already know this but for those who didn’t see this post somewhere else I wanted to post it on my blog too.

Ok the back story is that now and then I go onto Google and type in my name and make sure there are links to my various websites and such, since it is one of the ways I get my information out to people. I hadn’t done it for a long while so mid November I thought I’d go ahead and check it out since I was on my desktop and not my phone or iPad.

The first page was normal with links I would expect. The second page however had a photo of a lovely woman I didn’t know and beneath it was the title to my book. I was surprised and had the thought… no way another book with my same title LOL!

As it turns out this was a wonderful YouTube video review of my book by someone I had never met and still do not even know where she is from. It had been posted just the day before! (Remember I had not been looking up my stuff on Google for several months. But wait it gets better)

I posted it on my Facebook pages, and wrote a comment on her YouTube page to thank her.

Here is from her comment back to me

“Hi there Erika, when I tell you how I came along your wonderful book it’s another great story ☺ I was pretty annoyed with myself and thought everyone has great results meditating – so I ask for help – in the middle of the night I woke up hearing the word’s Essential Mysteries – write it down – I dream a lot this kind of way , so I wrote it down. The next morning I searched the net of course – nothing . Then I went on my kindle and here it was . I downloaded it and started my journey – found the proper book later and recommended it to a lot of my clients and they love your book, too. Thank you so much for this amazing journey. Love and Blessings 💖🙏💖 Marion”

I do that kind of search now and again just to see that I still show up etc. but never thought I’d find that review. This was the biggest validation of Spirit I could have gotten.

My intention is to get my book to all the people who would benefit from it. It looks like there are other wonderful helpers in this reality and on the Astral Plane helping me as well! OMG!

So here it is, please listen and enjoy and share far and wide! Let’s see if we can get it to go viral 💖

(And just as a point of clarification the book came out in 2009 not 2006).

Aloha and Blessings!!!

Erika

Gratitude.

Gratitude.
There’s a part of my heart that never aged.

Kept apart from the rest of my life, observing events, but not touched.

In amber…glowing golden, kept with other treasures, and memories.

Forgotten like so many things, that will reemerge at some predestined time when all is added back to us once more.

There’s a part of my heart that is still young, that is fresh and new and in awe.

(I had felt I had lost so much of it when Bowie passed, and now I see that there may be more than I knew.)

In me it blooms. Today I am reminded it was never lost.

No matter what the mirror reflects. I know now that I am not so old as I thought, and will never truly be, no one is…

I know now why the old men sit and reminisce, playing games in the park. 

I am reminded and renewed by reconnections and memories, coming to it from another place, with more understanding, the kind that only comes with age. 

Blessed am I, by my past. By the tender group of souls I came here with, some of them have moved on, and some of them, gratefully, are traveling with me still.

-Erika Katherine Ginnis

4-12-16
 from my yard 
 

Musings on coming out in the 70’s. I will miss you David Bowie. 

I remember striped glitter tube socks worn with platform shoes 6 big sparkly bracelets on each arm, walking arm in arm with a woman in pike place market not caring if people saw, even daring them to see. I remember my silver satin pants, the pink sequin shirt.
Multicolored hair, six inch platform boots, hanging on to one another as we traversed the cobblestones of Pioneer Square, so we didn’t fall.

Going to the 107 Club until 4am; The Trojan Shield for the drag shows, applied our red lipstick looking in the mirror at the end of that long single counter of the all night diner in-between.

Dancing at the Golden Crown, since I couldn’t get into the Silver Slipper (no fake ID, and that bar checked because it was all women), I don’t know if I ever made it in to that bar!
I remember the posters for the Double Header advertising Zee Whizz Kidz in their peacock capes. Glitter Rock and Gay bars. My life every weekend hitchhiking to Seattle after I came out in the 70’s.
And on my wall at home the open inside cover of Alladin Sane.

My fan girl crush and my hero, the first person who I ever knew was bisexual other than me.

I would gaze at your image. Androgynous and beautiful, otherworldly and amazing. You represented so much to me, gave me courage in your visibility to ask the hard question of myself and finally find the answer at such a young age; as I bounced back and forth between acceptance and terror.

There you were giving it all a name just by being, making it shiny and worthwhile giving me something to lean against and point to, a belonging.

You moved through the years with me, always there to check in with on the state of music and culture. Reminding me of where I came from.

There aren’t many of us left from my days on Occidental, it’s all changed.

I will always love you, and today it feels like I have lost a part of myself, makes my journey from that teenage girl to the woman no one would recognize as being the same if seen from a distance, (age making its alterations) all that more real.

And I wonder who I am, who I have become; once again asking the hard questions with you as my guide even now…am I being true to my own muse as you were so very true to yours? No. I think perhaps not. And then … what do I want to do about it.

RIP my lovely starlit man. Keep me company in spirit until I too find my way to where you have gone.

Aloha and Blessings,

Erika