Right as summer was winding down, my friend Jenn and I organized a weekend of art, nature, and play for a group of women. We camped on a property in the woods, on the edge of the Wisconsin River. Late August sun beating down, crickets chirping, lightning strikes in the distance at night, goldenrod and black-eyed Susans slowly turning brown. We met at that point in summer when its end feels close, but there isn’t yet a chill in the night air. A celebratory, take-it-while-you-can-and-give-it-your-all time of year. A perfect time to gather with women on the edge of a fierce body of water.
Jenn is a silly, badass artist, Life Coach, and dreamer. You might know that I am a quirky, fun-loving photographer. The weekend truly fed my soul- I dare say it fed the souls of all the women present.
What ensued was:
- So much swimming in the river
- Art and play- including butt painting (as evidenced in the photo below!), body painting, journaling, dancing, releasing negativity we felt towards our bodies
- Long fires at night
- Lots of discussion and advice-seeking about love, work, parenting, dreams, and our bodies
- Restful hammock time and some beach yoga
- Fabulous, healthy eating, thanks to Chef Lauren at The Vibrant Veg. She is an amazing vegan chef and lovely woman who fit right in with our crew.
Jenn and I organized the weekend as a time for body liberation thru art, nature, play, and yoga. We knew, however, that we needed to be flexible and hold space for what others were needing/feeling. What the women ended up expressing and cultivating together, was sisterhood. Insight and space and connection with each other. Especially after this past year of COVID and a lack of social and playful time, it felt amazing to spend time together (in nature!). Most of the women didn’t know each other, but by the end of the weekend we were all connected in a way that can only happen when you truly open yourself up and let others in.
Here’s a poem about the wild@heART weekend, written by Emily Sha, a weekend participant and all-around amazing human.
It always comes sooner than they’ve been expecting. No matter how old they are, women gaze at their sagging skin with surprise. As their flesh develops character like soft and weathered rock- marked by the weight of a child, by gravity by the sweets that keep the stress at bay, by an errant thorn, a scalpel, a fight and the summer sun. A defense is mounted. A spackle of sunblock, wide-brimmed hats, afternoons spent jockeying for a spot of shade. They fortify the body with clean living, movement and medicine, but the skin still buckles, the lines still form. On the banks of a river, women young and old, hold each other naked, skin against skin, roll against roll. They are dripping with rose oil, laughter, tears. They are dripping in paint: navy, pink and teal They’re allowing sun spots, fat, hair that thins They dance, they talk, they swim and as the tide of youth recedes, so does the shame, the need to compete, to strive, to attain, joy, surrender, and softer things remain.
In our reflection, Jenn and I realized this is the work we are meant to do. We feel called and supported and loved in these spaces, we want to continue to cultivate: healing, energetic, and thoughtful spaces for women to develop sisterhood.
Thanks so much for reading, and thanks to all these women for quickly and openly building sisterhood with me.
Love, Maureen, and Jenn
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