gathering
After the wound closes, who are you? When all that you are is scar tissue in the shape of who you used to be? When you have wrestled with gods, and angels, and devils, with others and with yourself. When you’ve prevailed but now you walk away limping. There is a moment when the name you once carried no longer carries you.
There is a temptation to gather all your shattered remnants quickly. To piece them back together where you found them. But, “This sore gathering takes time,” John O’Donohue says. Sometimes we need patience more than we need to be mended.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from making collages, it’s that the fragments aren’t asking to be returned to the state they held originally. They only ask to be accepted. To be reclaimed and rearranged. To have the chance to be transformed into something different. Sometimes being fixed doesn’t mean we’ll exist in the same way we once did. Sometimes being whole means finding completeness within the absences.
May you have patience with your slow gathering.
May your fragments form a whole new architecture.
May you limp gracefully, with a different name to carry.
In case no one’s told you today, I love you with all my everything.






The parallel between life and collage is exceptionally profound, Duane. Love. Love. Love. AND…I am beyond excited to have a conversation with you and @Jill McDougall this Sunday!
Such great pieces here, simplicity and composition reaching abstraction almost 🖤 love how your homemade paper looks! (Have you thought about the level of transformation there? I’m sure you have)
Such great food for thought , definitely resonates for me (That’s why I’m a relentless positive thinker),And a feast for the eyes !