My upcoming residency in France, healing and rebuilding trust in myself
In 8 days, I will be on my first solo plane ride, traveling across the ocean to Paris, France.
It feels like centuries have passed in the time it’s taken me to get to this point. I’ve spent the last year rebuilding my life, choosing to focus on myself and my healing. To say that 2023 was devastating would be an understatement. How do you move forward after an event that shatters you and takes you out of reality while forcing you to accept that reality as you knew it has shifted? What does that mean for the plans you thought you had? The future you were so confident that you wanted?
Those were some of the many dizzying questions I asked myself. I felt powerless, confused, and stuck yet confident that this was what I needed to move forward. I lost connections, friends, and myself. I thought I knew what healing looked like: the traumatic event happens, I’m knocked down for a while and then it turns into a distant memory, never to be thought about as much ever again.
This was not that.
I realized after a few months that I was fundamentally changed. I lost trust in myself. I didn’t trust the people closest to me. I realized that I wasn’t happy with my life as it was. Art, which had been such a catalyst for healing, felt so far away. It terrified me to step foot into my art room; I tried to make myself ready to create. Every time, the fear won. It felt agonizing to think of going through years of accumulated art supplies, photos, and past pieces knowing that I hadn’t felt brave enough to paint. I’m still grappling with and working through all these things.
I have my reservations about my upcoming residency at Chateau d’Orquevaux: what if I don’t feel connected to what I make because it’s been so long? What if all the newness and stress of being in an entirely new place paralyzes me so much that I can’t focus? Between all of those feelings, doubts, and wandering thoughts, I’m proud of myself for getting to this point and being determined enough to go for my dreams. Traveling to France has been a dream of mine since taking French in high school. I continued my studies of French culture through college, learning about customs, phrases, and expansive history from one of my favorite professors. I imagined myself walking in Paris, taking in the sights with an open mind, wandering wherever my heart desired.
Dreaming of doing something is one thing, taking the steps to do it is entirely different. Since paying my residency cost and securing my flight, I’ve been swirling with excitement and nerves. My tenacity shows in that I’ve gotten support for this opportunity, fundraising thousands of dollars in two years towards this once-in-a-lifetime trip. Still, I feel underprepared and don’t know what this experience will bring me. The things that are good and transformative for you come with nerves. I know that. So, I embrace not knowing. I make room for uncertainty and fear. I welcome the nervousness with my arms and heart wide open.
Another good lesson for me this year: In between all of the goodness new experiences bring, there must be room for all the things that are not good. The things that are good for you might have not-so-good feelings and thoughts attached to them. These don’t define the experience but they are necessary. There can’t be goodness without the badness. Which comes first doesn’t matter as much as the step forward and through.
I’m looking forward to the respite and creative space that Orquevaux will bring. Thank you for being here with me on this journey. À bientôt!