Etchings

It is midnight. Rain is spattering across my windowpane, and I can hear my neighbor’s wind chimes whirling. On nights like these I think of my mother, her soft voice reminding me to think of all the animals outside – the red foxes curled up in their dens, the blue jays huddled in their nests – and soon I’d forget about the whipping wind and fall soundlessly into a dream. I think of my gentle, resilient mother too, as close up Deborah Levy’s The Cost of Living. I had picked it out at an indie bookstore because of its mustard yellow cover – a color that an acquaintance once told me was the aura I radiate – and because the bookseller told me it was the last copy in store. Now, in my bed, I can feel the warmth radiating off of the book, like a candle of some kind. I feel illuminated – about my relationships with men, about the sacrifices of motherhood.

Levy’s vignette-style memoirs are bursting with life, and all the pains of that life, as she reflects upon balancing the responsibilities of motherhood with her desire to have a separate space to write, and another space to live, after her divorce. As she contemplates the inner-workings of her relationships with men and women, I contemplate mine. I consider my own creative process, and the ways it has been interrupted and often hindered by a desire to be a good girl. A soft writer, with dainty, precious words. Words that do not hurt, but soothe. Levy, though her writing is precious, uses this fragility to push against the expectation that she sacrifice her writing for the satisfaction of someone else, for the perpetuation of the status quo. Suddenly, the rain is no longer bothersome. It is fierce, and heated, and beautiful in that heatedness. My laptop glows from somewhere in the dark, and I’m compelled to write for no one else but myself. It is midnight. The rain is fierce. I lay with my back against

my striped comforter, eyes dwelling on the leak stain in my ceiling. I’ve clicked on Kiana Ledé’s 2018 EP, Selfless. The range of her voice whirls up my body, the lyrics clinging to my toes, which are now pointed up towards the ceiling, kicking like I used to do with my little sisters, giggling away as a song ran its course. Ledé talks about the realities of womanhood. Its confusion, its complexities.

I got not trouble with my pride, got trouble cutting ties. Wanting to talk to an ex without feeling like you’re disempowering your heart, or other women. I keep holding on. Toxic relationships, perpetuated by both parties. I always seem to get my way way too late.

She reminds me to be selfish. I don’t remember being told to be selfish as a young woman, but here it is, making me kick my legs to Kiana’s soulful songs. I feel myself leap, out of body. I’m free to put myself first. I stand in front of my mirror, the rain entering into the music like it was always a part of the tune. I let my hair out, ruffle it up, spin around on my carpet. Like Kiana, I am human, I am flawed, I am not an object. Like Kiana, too, I am beautiful. She makes me think – what is it I want?

I hold my breath for a moment. I realize I’ve never been asked that before.

I pull out my journal and my favorite pen, the one that feels right in my hand but bleeds through the pages a bit. I start writing a list.

We are always looking for ourselves. Along the way we lose ourselves time and time again, as we learn how to let go and how to forgive. Through her art, Deun Ivory offers us a place of solace as we embark on the journey to ourselves. Co-founder of lifestyle brand Ivory + Ash and Art Director of Black Girl in Om, an online resource and community that encourages “self-care, self-love, and self-empowerment for communities of color,” a multidisciplinary artist and creative visionary, Ivory always aims to bring her full self into the spaces she occupies. “My space is central to my identity,” Ivory started. “Also, my love and admiration for black women, because for so long I struggled with loving and embracing my black identity.” Ivory’s work exists to guide us on our way to our bodies and our beings in a powerful visual space that is raw and, above all, loving.

Portraits captured by Ivory of women around her enable us as women, as women of color – as people – to see beyond the woman in the photo and recognize the beauty in ourselves. Framed in close proximity, soft romantic tones emanate from her subjects, allowing Ivory to powerfully captivate audiences and challenge roles society has constructed and assigned to women of color.

Ivory steadily reminds us that beauty manifests in limitless forms and intricate designs, derived from spaces as unique as whom they hold, and that not every journey is the same. A gentle reassurance from Ivory: “Your past does not define who you are.” Each of us has the power to learn from past experiences, to frame them as an opportunity to grow, and share what we’ve cultivated as knowledge, so that others may learn, too.

Ivory’s journey began after completing college, unsure of herself and clueless as to where her path would take her next; homeless and floating from couch to couch. In the face of uncertainty, Ivory found her passion through photography and came into her first successful project, made possible by a friend, that propelled her into a new life. A simple act of kindness, the recommendation of a new opportunity, delivered Ivory into a space where she could not only be kinder to herself, but in turn, act as a blessing to others. Now, Ivory is creating new spaces and writing her own narrative to share knowledge and provide experiences that didn’t exist when she needed them.

“Empowerment is something that is so important to me because for so long I didn’t know my power,” Ivory shared. “I went through a lot of traumatizing experiences that rocked me so much. But now that I’m in this space where, [although] my confidence is still a journey, I’m talking about or celebrating black women all the time through my work, and then in some type of way, I’m affirming you, whoever you are.”

A role too often posed as oppressed and overlooked, Ivory is working towards changing the dialogue directed towards women of color. An open mind and heart keep Ivory moving. Her most recent work, a series entitled “The Body: A Home for Love,” is a collection and organization dedicated to creating “restorative healing experiences for sexually traumatized survivors of color,” combining art, storytelling, and activism into a single experience. The series delves into the world of healing and restoration of the self – how to come to terms with these experiences and how to rewrite those stories along the way.

After receiving the 2018 VSCO Voices grant, Ivory took to the sky, traveling where she could in search of black women of whom were sexually exploited at some point in their lives, particularly in their youth. Each session shared with her subjects is meant to act as another part of the healing journey. “Their stories are essential to who they are,” Ivory shared. Each woman depicted as part of “The Body: A Home for Love” is a survivor, a source of power and comfort for anyone else that may need to be recognized, their pain acknowledged. “I always tell my subjects ‘This isn’t just for me, it’s for you,” she added. “It’s about making her feel like her best self.” Ivory has a way with translating the energy of her subjects into something more. Each portrait is an expression of self, of the most organic element of being, that demonstrates resilience, strength and passion.

Viewed in intimate settings as a traveling art installation, “The Body: A Home for Love” reminds us that healing takes time. It means protecting yourself, while not being afraid to voice your desires and your needs. Speaking life into her audiences, Ivory travels with her work, entering communities to pour love and affirmation into every soul in the room. The root of healing is a source of hope – much like adding ginger into hot tea to stop a turning stomach, journaling on a cloudy morning or putting on a favorite record to set a worried mind at ease. This body of work has given Ivory courage to love herself, to inspire her subjects to love themselves, and extend that love unto us, the viewers.

“Being a visual storyteller is about creating experiences between spirits and energies and allowing myself to be transformed and inspired by the people I’m in conversation with,” Ivory said. Throughout the creation of “The Body:

A Home for Love,” Ivory has discovered more of what it means to be an artist and the implications that has. She has established a space for herself to create; a space for herself, and for those who wish to enter, to release any lingering negativity and unexpressed emotions. As an artist, to Ivory, “everything has intention. Storytelling requires a lot of intentionality, a lot of mindfulness and keeping people at the center of it all.”

By breaking problematic social norms within the black community and developing new communities to strengthen those already in place, Ivory is redefining what “home” means. Once without a home, she has come full circle, having dedicated her passions to “creating a life that brings joy. A life that helps you to be aware of your home at all times.” Home to Ivory is “to be absolutely submerged in love.” It is finding love and truth. “In order to capture your truth,” Ivory started, “you have to know what your truth is. That requires a lot of self-awareness and introspection; and a lot of discomfort, a lot of being real with yourself.” And through this discomfort, we make the most magnificent discoveries. We find ourselves.

“Be honest about where you are in your journey. Have integrity. Be authentic and [show] that you have nothing to be ashamed of -- nothing to hide,” Ivory stated.

Loving yourself, your whole self, is the most important thing you can do for yourself, no matter who you are, no matter where you come from. “Through God – I am able to give myself what I need,” Ivory said. “[The idea that] you are whole, you are loved unconditionally. You have everything you need to thrive to live in abundance and elevation…Everything that you are pursuing or chasing after, you already have,” Ivory added.

There is wisdom and knowledge everywhere, embedded into every fiber of our being. We just have to ask ourselves to be brave enough to share it and, even more importantly, to listen to it. To listen to others when they are speaking and to allow ourselves to speak our truth. Our stories have the power to manifest change and bring about new ways of thinking, of finding empathy, and of connecting more deeply with those around us, so that we may strengthen ourselves and our communities.

Remember: healing takes time. Eventually, we will learn how to acknowledge pain and still continue onward, though it hurts. We will find community. We will find solace. We will own every space we walk into, head held high.