Into the micro, pulling out of the macro—
All in relative form, sprouts caps of wonder
from seeming entropy.
Mother Gaia once again offers sanctuary—
Under the stars and in Father Sky,
Where a moment's peace awaits all weary travelers.
-Auriel
As I finished framing "POLYBLOSSOM," I also completed "SANCTUARY RISING." With the drop-off and pick-up date for the former, along with the gift exchange for The Hive Gallery's December show, "Rising Stars - December Edition," approaching quickly, I decided to create a miniature sculptural painting that mirrored the sanctuary piece as a gift.
(Oceanside pier, Winter 2025)
I had extra seashells from the last after-midnight beach walk, added a few branches, miniature foliage, and mica powder as sculptural elements, and touched them up with two types of hot and epoxy glue. I painted an acrylic scene for the backdrop, and on the mushroom-cap shells I added more detail by drybrushing the trim and fungal stems with gold. I attached it to a tiny wooden easel for desk or shelf display. Signed and felted the finished piece; it was ready for careful gift-wrapping.
This piece was a fitting choice, as the miniature (no more than 5 inches) fit perfectly under the small tree in the large gallery. Aside from the gifts under wraps that night, every wall and podium was adorned with unique pieces, each as distinctive as the artist who created it. Opening night became a moment of community gratitude and overall relief after a challenging year for many of The Hive's Bees and guests in various ways. We escaped the weight of life by reminding one another why it's worth carrying the load in the first place.
I needed to participate in this show because I would be undergoing the first of a series of surgeries in mid-January to address nasal breathing obstructions, and I would not be able to be involved in The Hive as much as I'd like for the year ahead (See Personal Updates for more).
Both shows were full of camaraderie and solidarity, signaling better times ahead, even if we did not know what that would look like or when. We collectively drew on the qualities we already possessed to plan shows, create time for art, and foster genuine connections. Whether big or small, deep or shallow, we practiced using our focus to relate to each other. In this context, those special events and moments served as rituals of purging and healing—and, like any good ritual, they occur in cycles, with actions supported by intentional awareness and heartfelt engagement. It is about rejuvenating the old, guiding us away from the frenetic, misleading lights of hierarchical distractions and the resulting hopelessness of "doomscrolling."
We can do better without ignoring what is wrong. It doesn't have to be a grand gesture; the little things add up. Start by creating a portal to a little sanctuary for yourself and see what emerges from that space—be it physical or mental. When opportunities to share arise, you may be surprised at how the right places can amplify the sanctuary rather than threaten it. These internal processes and rituals show how small actions influence larger outcomes, one moment (and one being) at a time.
