A welcome pause.

Hello everyone,

Jessie Ray here. It's been a long and traumatic year for me and for plenty of people I know.

Sometimes I tried to party the horrible stuff away, sometimes I worked so hard I didn't have time to linger thoughts on bright, more shiny things, sometimes I just stayed in bed for the entire weekend and wished everyone would leave me be, in depressive cosy silence.

Through exhaustion and grief and a million coping mechanisms, I've come to the point where I just need to stop and sit and heal.

If you care to read some thoughts swirling in my head, please go ahead. Otherwise, thank you for your support, and I'll see you at some stage in the new year!

_________________________________________________________________________________

In just over two years, I have created upwards of 65 events including exhibitions, performance evenings, focus groups, workshops, etc. Some of those have been with a dedicated team of helpers, and some without. All the while, I have held down a full-time job, revived my own art business, and tried desperately to create some good beyond myself. I believed that I could sleep when I was dead and that there are more pressing things to be done than unwind and relax.

It has been enlightening, heart-opening and uplifting to connect with you all over the last few years and from the big shows down to the tiny, vulnerable conversations, I am grateful that you would come to me for love or hugs or advice or sillies.

I am completely burned out on an emotional and energetic level and now it's time to reboot. I have not been able to process anything that has happened in the last two years let alone the last 6 months due to the speed at which things keep happening. As a result, my health and closest relationships are suffering and I'm not willing to sacrifice them any longer.

I'm taking a break from Art Party. This both terrifies me and relieves me. In 28 months, I have had one break from Art Party, over two years ago.

Since its inception, we have had Art Party :
- in Sydney 28 times
- 10 times around the country, up and down the East Coast
- in India, Russia, Kenya, Indonesia and soon to be Canada

- We have connected with over 300 emerging performing artists in Australia and from Canada, UK, US and Indo.

- We have worked with over 15 different emerging venues/artist-run-initiatives within Australia and internationally

- we have over 2300 members in our Facebook group who are keen to connect, attend, art on and become the family we seek.

- We have had a measurable impact on the mental health and connectivity within our community, something I'm over the moon about. As the primary face of Art Party, I have heard that many stories of trauma, abuse, suicide, depression, isolation, longing, loneliness, and vulnerability. One thing that joins these stories is the person's willingness to share them, transcend them and connect once again to their art expression. Feeling safe to do so is paramount and feeling like you're among your tribe is what facilitates this healing. Though intangible, it can be felt in the repeated connections, unfolding of personalities and growing of trust, business and performance between members of our community.

- We have provided opportunities for our artists external to Art Party in radio, at festivals, other cities, other countries and continue to do so.

- We have successfully reached the point in April 2014 where all artists and contributors are paid fairly for their contribution. Woo!

I am extremely grateful to all those who have believed in this vision and who have offered their hands of help. I look forward to hopefully coming back to Art Party in 2015 with a renewed body and mind. I am confident that this community will be excited and inspired by one of my biggest inspirations, Bravo Child, as he takes over my duties for the first few months of 2015.

Please continue to support our artists, they need it and are so worth it. In ten years time when you're gagging for culture, I guarantee the ones you've supported will be the ones delivering that much-needed culture and art to life.

Peace x Love x Art x

I've always had trouble breathing,
as though it wasn't the first,
most essential aspect of my living,
each day I remind myself to inhale,
hold, exhale and empty,
like my body parts have forgotten how to on their own,
shoulders rise where belly should
and heart skips beats happy like a child,
yet lacking foresight and consequence.

You take my breath away
to foreign places twisted with accents
and warm bread,
wrinkled nose and tangled bedsheets
One hand on throat to hold my pulse
with the widest part of your hand,
I hold my lungs silent
for fear of dispersed luck,
Forget my needs momentarily and gasp,
before you pat me to calm
and back again.

You take my breath into your lungs,
one beat hung from your humming syllables
darrr-lin,
growl your rumble and rust,
let breathless lead to lusting
and let this twisted mechanism function.

Raw Women

Someone reposted one of my poems today <3

I guess if any of my words resonate with anyone who reads them, then the poem has satisfied it's own existence.

http://wp.me/p4lmXR-1Xr

River of Rose

My boat floats on a river of rosé
colouring Sunday afternoon in this here
love-boom
with the warmth of a winter wine
cloaked in summer sunshine,
still chilled by the night wind,
transparent heavens and
anticipation
part their lips
together to welcome us
part the weather like a red sea
give this sky-canvas some clarity
droplets of rain-paint
two shades lighter than my wine
camouflage themselves among my freckles
and fine lines,
I do not brush them away,
would rather revel in their shape.

My heart beats to myriad of rhythms
call me a culture-less vulture,
guilty of misappropriation
but every living thing has a beat
and every living thing has a skin
though I did not ever make a drum of hide
my hands know how to synchronize
their words,
to punctuate their falling softly,
to trance mind into matterless particle
and brain into endless vibration,
it is the most curious sensation
to admire all human cultures
as divine works of art
rather than a starting point for stealing.

My eye is drawn
by particles of shared memory
sun captured through busted lens
refracts off experiential symmetry
attracts me to shiny things
bright energy expands
through my eyelids.
Someone planted
fourteen circular rainbows
directly in front of my iris
rubbing shoulders with a dust mote
to keep my eyes in focus
showing me the spectrum
of endless possibility
my lashes sit in lotus-like
contemplation
of all I left behind me,
of the beauty now in front of me.

My memory is a masterpiece
stuck between two shelves
depending on how I see it
there's both heaven and hell in my
basket
I swing your arms and laugh,
as though direction were the key
it's neither path less travelled nor
heavily-trod
but the values inside which fuel me.

Permission

I have been digging my fingernails into these days,
believing that would slow
                                       time
                                               d  o  w  n,
give me enough minutes to pray for stillness,
grace,
to stop the constant flow of life moving away from when you died,
but Time doesn't care for me
the way you did
and Change, well, he is unemotional, indifferent and callous
to my bruises,
keeps on pushing, rolling,
Through tunnels and overseas,
brick by brick, and
designed demolition
No moss gathering,
no ecosystems flourishing,
just constant cyclical moving.

I gave you permission to leave my hands
knew you had a holier dance to attend
whispered well wishes to your missing bones
left myself an empty chamber of my heart
the shape of your groan
when you'd roll your eyes and burst into laughter
life echoing in our lounge
i let you go,
i let you remain unchanged
constantly 26 and yet
winning at this life shit,
on the edge of the wildest dream
you had to go and leave
so i'm trying to let it be
i'm still grasping for a giggle
thats been drowned out by the sea
every day for the past week
Sydney sky has mocked me with
Her brilliant brutality
The moon waits silently
for me to address her again
but i won't.
Once there was a direct line to her smile, 
now just the echo of a dial-tone, 
Guilelessly,
 Kiss the receiver, put it to rest against my breast
for one last heartbeat, 
Beg it to witness this blessed second.

I give myself permission to sleep
unruffled, unharmed
reaching for peace,
I want my body to heal,
as much as i feed it dis/ease
rolling on rotten gut
destructively free
but when i rest cells connect
deliver healing subconsciously

I give myself
permission to love wildly
dance the fine line of
lust and insanity
Use parts of body that aren't
in my skull
to feel my way through this
blinding mess
orient myself toward light
or fire
scream til heaven breaks in the night
i will not lie down and take this one life
as though it can treat me however it likes

I give myself permission to love
mindlessly
cuntfully
grinding and bumping til planets collide
no need for names when your
skin melts into mine
just fuck me back to life.

They say there's often holes
that cannot be filled with sinful living
but i tend to disagree
when it happens to me, simply put,
to get fucked and fucked up
is the best anaesthetic
one can rustle up
for the soul and the head,
as long as you know what you're
doing, they said,
as long as you know what you're
doing.

I give myself permission to feel
l   o    s     s  
                            fully
to fall time and again on my knees
to marvel at scabs and blood
cover my face in mud
go mad tearing myself 'part at the seams
pick myself up slowly,
walk home and
wash away the grime.

Time trots on by,
incomparable minute by wretched minute
I drop my eyebrows
walk through each step
because what else do you do?

I give myself permission to stay
away from you
to continue missing you
like my life's mission
what pleasure it was to know you,
seek skies in you
Earth crumbled from Pokara
to Katoomba
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
Grief is a 30 year process
so i give you up
to time,
to dreams
to belief that you weren't crazy
but visionary
but the more I speak of the dead
the more the living find distance from me
so lets carry this conversation
in silence

Forgive me
give me permission to be free again, please.

now I'm angry

at how I got myself into this situation

noticing 

that you do not see respect or boundary

noticing that the more 

you complain

the higher I build my brick wall

if you carry on like this, 

we will never be friends again

Such slight slights causing offence, 

and you still do not seem to get it

we are no longer close, 

nor will we ever be

things changed irreparably

in April, and in May

And finally I find myself in motion. 

rotten gut, fermenting rut, 
revisit of mindsets I thought I'd given up, 
Stoned heart, Stoned mind, 
If I'm now the rusty, then you were the shine
on this iron ore heart, 
cold as earth in the pre-dawn
until Father Sun came along.