Hayra, acrylic on canvas, 60x48 in.
In this painting, two entities emanate from a singular source–both containing slabs of granite and translucent sections. Granite reminds me of our long lines of ancestors, parts of which compress into our present being, and the translucent shapes feel like multiple dimensions that exist within all of us.
There is a line of “flames” running between the central “seed” shape and the black eye, symbolizing guidance from within, as well as incoming information from the world back into the self. Along the right side are white translucent “veils,” representing the idea of initiation and the sacred.
The lines at the bottom right that make a 3D shape are projecting a path forward that is a mirror of the half-heart shape, symbolizing the heart path. The figure as a whole floats over the ground as it moves.
The piece is titled ḥayra as this Sufi term loosely translates as bewilderment, but more in the sense of a sacred disorientation. It’s a state that we encounter when the old ways of knowing no longer hold, and the new reality hasn’t yet settled in. This threshold space is not a problem to solve, but a station to inhabit–and it’s exciting and uncomfortable at the same time.
You could say we inhabit this threshold state at all times–like in any given moment, we are made up of many complex parts–our unique blueprint that is always unfolding, our past, our bloodlines, and prismatic future projections. But at some definite points in our lives this experience of ḥayra is more pronounced than others (becoming a teen, leaving the nest, moving house, having children, midlife).
I find it interesting that the metaphorical concept of “going haywire” has a similar, yet less compassionate meaning. Haywire doesn’t imply a re-ravelling after the unravelling, but ḥayra does. And, I like the idea of the re-ravel, the surrendering to getting all tangled up again, because nothing is ever not messy.