Finding out together.
Magnifying and multiplying all the good things.
A breeding ground for my goodness.
The gravity that keeps me from straying.
Exciting distraction always.
Cuts me through water,
creating my most beautiful form,
holding me in like river banks.
Making opaque any hesitation.
Keeping the world untainted
Song by Corinne Shields, artwork and text by Katherine McDermid-Smith
HOLD is everything we need
From birth
And forever
We always want to be held
It is our human desire. Our rest Bite
The sanctuary we all crave
– Georgie J White
…sanctuary?
It’s not so much what this is, but how it came to be. Nearly all of my writing processes – be it a play, an article or a social media post – start with freewriting. Uncensored, raw, sometimes cringe-worthy and occasionally something that makes me gag when I go back and re-read it. But more often than not, it is in the unedited freewriting process that I discover the core ‘truth’ in whatever it is I’m trying to write. So it has filled, and continues to fill, a really important purpose in my artistic work.
What I have done in this video, is trying to capture and expose my process of freewriting in a sort of ‘freespeaking’ – which I guess can be described as a glorified improvisation. As a writer/performer who is fond of meticulous preparation, and have a shouty perfectionist side, sharing completely unprepared and unedited free speech feels scary as fuck. What if I have said something offensive? What if I don’t express my thoughts in a way that represents what how I actually think? What if, what if, what if.
But then again, what is sanctuary if not a place where one can speak without worrying about how it will resonate in one’s surroundings? I suppose it depends on what it is a sanctuary from.
Anyway, back to the task at hand. Sanctuary. That is the task I set myself before I started speaking to the camera; I was going to discuss the concept of a ‘sanctuary’ with a specific set of rules… 1) I was not allowed to say the word ‘sanctuary’ 2) I was going to, at some point, include the following randomly selected phrases from peoples’ testimonies about what sanctuary was for them:
“Michelle Obama’s autobiography”
“You’re mine”
“Party of Five”
“Trust”
It’s chaos. I backtrack a lot, and don’t always make sense. It’s not filmed from an angle I look my best from. But being human, at the end of the day, is chaotic and doesn’t always make sense. And it’s not always about looking our best. Sometimes, it’s about speaking for the sake of speaking. And when one is in a position to do so freely without worrying too much about any judgment (or, worrying and deciding that the worry can go fuck itself and do it anyway), this is a position of privilege.
Or is it just sanctuary?
– Therese Ramstedt
My safe space is my partner and my cats: my home really. When I was growing up I was bullied so badly that I used to come home and put my toys in a circle around me to protect me. I would then close my eyes and imagine them to life in my head- a strong and brave boy doll who made sure nobody hurt me: soft and sweet animals I could nurture and protect, and then me in the middle, a mermaid who slept neatly inside an oyster shell, snapped shut and only allowed to be opened by the boy. I didn’t like to make a mess so instead I played the games in my head, writing out the stories carefully and drawing pictures to go with them. I would then fold up the stories and put them inside my Polly Pockets- all snuggled inside like secrets. I’m 31 now and I have my family: I made what I dreamed come to life. Sometimes I think it’s wonderful and sometimes I think did I ever really grow up at all? I still can’t sleep without my blanket. Then I look at my partner anyway and feel safe again. It’s like when I see her somebody has thrown me a life jacket – someone has put netting under the bridge so if I jump I will just bounce. I know this is so unhealthy but I can’t help it- I talk so much about independence and feminism and individuality and autonomy but really- I am completely besotted with my girlfriend because when I am with her I’m safe and nobody can hurt me- and I know I’m not a mermaid but at least now I’m not drowning. Being with her is like for the first time I was in this water and then somebody taught me how to swim. She understands me: when my depression is bad and my nightmares wake me up and I’m drenched with sweat and shaking and crying out – she is there. She doesn’t even mind that I cry in toy shops still. She just holds my hand quietly and says what an awful lot of love I must have if I’m able to even love still things to life.
So the answer is this; my sanctuary is her x
– Bethany Rose
This Lady's Labour 