Letting ourselves be seen
There is a part of me that wants nothing more than to hide, to watch and observe rather than participate.
In preschool, I was so shy that I couldn’t bring myself to talk to my teachers and classmates. Every evening, my dad would ask me if I spoke in school that day, and every day I would shake my head, ashamed at my inability to use my voice. I would promise myself that the next day would be different, but it never was.
Over time, it was a tremendous relief to find my way out of that shell. One of my life’s greatest pleasures is a good conversation, and sometimes a roomful of strangers can actually feel like a wonderful adventure.
But in some ways, I’m still that timid four-year-old for whom speaking felt like jumping off a cliff. I’m still that eight-year-old hiding behind my favorite yucca tree as I watch the world go by. And I’m still that 12-year-old filling notebooks with all the things floating in my head that I was too scared to express.
For a long time, I didn’t like those versions of me. I wanted to be fully present and unafraid to take up space. I still want to be those things, but I can also appreciate the quiet lessons that that shy little girl taught me — that it can be scary to share our stories and speak our truths, that letting ourselves be seen is one of the bravest things we can do.
As Steph and I were putting together a new reel, we wanted to center those lessons. We wanted to capture the spirit of vulnerability and play that’s at the heart of our work and at the heart of how we work with you.
We’re excited to share this new reel (inspired by this poem) and website, as well as our beautiful new logo, created by the exuberant and talented Cleo De Laney.
We’re open and ready for new commissions and collaborations this spring and eager to see what this new season brings.
Let us know what you think!
-Monica