Foreword by Keri Smith

“The more you’re here, and the more you’re alive, the more you realize you’re a mortal human being and that you’ll pass from this place. And will you actually turn up? Will you become a full citizen of vulnerability, loss, and disappearance, which you have no choice about?” —David Whyte

magine an art studio, a white room filled with lots of natural light. On one side there is a large drawing table covered with a myriad of art supplies of all shapes and colors. A candle is burning on the table. There are handmade bowls and baskets filled with materials that have been lovingly collected on long walks, during all seasons, from many different landscapes: rocks and shells and pieces of wood, moss, grasses and herbs that offer pungent smells when rubbed. There are things that beg your fingers to touch them, to pick them up and turn them around in your hand. There are colors, so many colors of oil and chalk pastels and paints. Beside the desk on the floor are baskets full of long colored fabric scraps, some tied together in anticipation of a project. The room smells pleasantly of art supplies, beeswax, wood and dried herbs. In the middle of the studio there is a colorful handmade rag rug. On it are small bowls filled with more natural materials, each with the goal of enticing you to take a closer look. The rug itself is an invitation to take off your shoes and sit down. You are being asked to give yourself over to an important conversation with someone who believes in what the poet and philosopher David Whyte refers to as the power of a “beautiful question.”

The beautiful questions in this case are of what it means to be an artist, and on what gives us meaning, on what our soul really requires to thrive. They are plentiful and not always easy. The questions being asked will push you because it requires you to go into the depths of who you are for the answer.

I have spent several weeks walking through this conversation with my guide Sarah Zoutewelle-Morris. It feels as though I have been on a journey with a dear friend. And while we never got to meet in person I feel as though

we are kindred spirits, both in how we think and how we pursue meaning — like someone with their hair on fire pursues a pond. Sarah’s line of questioning is thorough. She does not let you take the easy way out. If you are going to become an artist, if you are going to pursue a life of meaning, you must travel to a place of great vulnerability. But do not worry, you are in the hands of a competent guide who will take you through the beautiful questions one by one. Sarah provides you with her own thoughts and conclusions on what it means to live fully, on the potential of art to heal, and on how it can inspire us to “make sense of our experience.”

This book is a beautiful journey through the landscape of an artist questioning her role and contribution to society. The themes presented will probably be familiar to artists and creative people: among others, a deep questioning of the merger of art and commerce, asking how we can use art to better our communities, exploring how we can use art to heal and find meaning, and more. You are in the expert hands of a deeply contemplative and thoughtful soul who will take you thoroughly through this questioning process only to emerge on the other side with some incredible gifts. During the course of the journey you will be exposed to an amazing number of writers, artists, and creative thinkers who will provide you with plenty of research material for your own explorations.

As I write this we are living in the midst of a global pandemic. My family and I fled the US to Canada (my home country). We are very lucky to have had a way out. The situation in the US is worsening every day and people are struggling to survive. Wildfires are burning on the west coast causing thousands to flee their homes. People are losing their jobs and not able to pay their rents due the pandemic. The Black Lives Matter protests have grown all over the world. People have taken to the streets to say, “Enough is enough. We will not stand for racism and discrimination any longer!” There is an increased sense of hopelessness and rates of depression are through the roof. The federal government is doing nothing to help the people. None of us could have imagined just a year ago how much the world could change in such a short time. The American dream (which Sarah specifically mentions as distinctly problematic) is literally failing right in front of our eyes. The things that people have been aspiring to for so long (money, success, fame) have proven to be empty and lacking in the meaning that is so needed to have a soulful existence. Now is a time for re-evaluating, and re-imagining a better life. As Sarah says, “many have begun to seek images for a better life, one that is kinder and more sustainable, where there is less

inequality, violence, discrimination and poverty.” Hers is a message for precisely this moment.

Covid-19 has reminded us of the fragility of all of it, that none of us are immune to extreme vulnerability. Because of Covid there has been a tendency to ask ourselves what is the importance of art now? Doesn’t it seem superfluous during times when people are truly struggling to survive? But this is precisely the thing that can and will help us through this time.

Yesterday I rode my bike through a nearby neighborhood. As I was riding I noticed something white fluttering in my peripheral vision. I stopped and saw that someone had tied white prayer flags to an ugly thick metal wire and they fluttered in the wind. It seems like such a small thing to put up some prayer flags in an unexpected place. But the whole experience of it gave my heart a much needed jolt. This simple act communicated something much bigger than the sum of its parts. It said to me “Yes, life is still good. We are here.” And it gave me a moment of pause, to think about something else other than the struggle that we find ourselves in.

I think this is the thing that Sarah is really trying to get at in the course of her investigations. How can we use our work to come to the aid of others? How can we make someone’s life more bearable? Because we are all in the process of struggling to survive. How can we do it with grace, passion, and love?

This is the last communication of an artist to her community. It comes from someone who did indeed “turn up” and became a “full citizen of vulnerability” in her process as an artist and a human being. It is a true gift of questioning and insight. Reading it has left me questioning how I can both turn up and step up more in my own work and life. It has made me question what I can carve away and let go of, the unnecessary things (rules, societal expectations, beliefs). It has also made me excited to go forward and double down on the things that are really important, the things that as Sarah says “radiate out” and reflect in your art and life.

Thank you Sarah for sharing this incredible gift with us. Thank you for inviting me to sit on your rug with you. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and ideas in this generous way. Thank you for using your gifts as a powerful tool for change. The world is better for it. — Keri Smith, author of Wreck This Journal Sunday, September 13, 2020