For an audio version of this essay, please click here:
I wrote this Ekphrastic poem based on a glass cube created with individual slats pieced together (meticulously, as there was no evidence of adhesive lines). Charles Shepard III, CEO of the Fort Wayne Museum of Art, explained that the artist hand-painted each slab and allowed it to dry before securing it to the next piece. He did this spontaneously, without identifying how the whole sculpture would appear once every element was in place.
From the front, a three-dimensional figure—almost sea urchin-like in appearance—floats in the center of the sculpture. Wisps of white swirl at the edges of the image. But if the viewer walks around the glass piece, the image vanishes entirely, and all that remains appears to be a clear cube.
I considered this illusory effect when I penned my interior reaction. Here’s what I came up with. This is without editing or revising or second-guessing. It’s based on free association, what surfaced from my subconscious without prior knowledge or thought.
I am made of
Many layers—
The result
Of time and patience.Slices of me
Tell my story
Of change and growth.From the center
I appear
Multifaceted and pure—
Wisps of cloud,
Undulations of lines.But walk away
From me
And I disappear.Do you want
Life to vanish,
Or are you willing
To withstand the truthThat you are
Parts
Of a whole?
Upon reflecting as I type this now, I realize that elements of parts work in Internal Family Systems Theory emerge in the last stanza: You are parts of a whole. The idea is that each of us consists of aspects or attributes of our personality that serve us in different ways: some are managers that try to control the trajectory of an experience or connection in order to protect the Self from emotional pain; some are exiles that symbolize our young self who has been isolated, silenced, and shunned (where we feel most vulnerable); some are called firefighters and extinguish our feelings in an effort to protect us from real or perceived threats.
But there is one part—the Core Self—where we are calm, connected, compassionate, curious, clear, creative, confident, and courageous. The goal is integration of all the parts into the Core Self.
When each of us can accept that there are fragments of who we are that are deeply wounded, wholeness becomes clearer, more accessible. We understand that there is no perfection in healing. There is only acceptance.
If you’d like to support my work but can’t commit to a monthly or annual subscription, you can make a one-time donation as a tip here.
The Book Club for Busy Readers
I’m pleased to announce that I’ll be hosting a monthly virtual book club for all of my Substack subscribers, starting in January. Generally, these will be held on the second Sunday of every month (unless otherwise noted) from 2-3:30 PM Eastern via Zoom. In two cases, I have authors who will make a guest appearance to discuss their book with us. If you are interested in joining, I will need you to send an email (jeannie [dot] ewing 07 [at] gmail [dot] com—without spaces), so that I can extend the Zoom invitation month to month.
Click here for more information:
I love how you started with a piece of glass art from the Fort Wayne Art museum. We are indeed part of a greater whole. It made me feel that it was ok to have wounded parts because the greater whole will make up for the parts in me where I struggle. We are moving together. I loved this insight. Thanks Jeannie.
Beautiful poem, Jeannie, on such a wonderful piece of art. I love your entire poem, but these lines stood out for me:
Slices of me
Tell my story
Of change and growth.
We each have "slices" of ourselves that tell our story, but we are whole people, and each slice only tells part of our story. Wonderful interpretation of the artwork.