Instagram story viewer> @torchesforghosts> Posts

L i s h a J o y

@torchesforghosts

553

followers

993

following

ᴀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ
ᴀʀᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: @_echotree_

POSTS STORIES REELS TAGGED

•
In recent years, as my female rage has reached a steady boil, I’ve come to appreciate weaponry disguised as jewelry, such as pendants that hide knives & rings with spikes that turn a fist into an arrow.

The past couple weeks, flooded with news of men violating women & slapping each other on the wrist, have only turned up the temperature within me.

I channeled my rage into a dagger imitating a brooch; the hilt topped with a teardrop, sharp as the blade, to represent the profound sorrow that rests beneath the anger.

Meant to be worn on a lapel, harmless as a button, but capable of inflicting damage if the need arises…
•
•
•
Scroll through slides 7-10 to see progress shots…

I began by drawing several designs in pencil then gluing the chosen one to a brass sheet & tediously cutting out the shape with a jeweler’s saw. But, feeling that the dagger was too flat and one-dimensional, I sawed a second hilt, adding a sharp point to overlap the blade, then soldered the second hilt onto the first one & sanded then polished them until they looked like one solid piece. by @torchesforghosts

3

6

9 days ago

•
Last week in Seattle, I experienced Chelsea Wolfe in concert for the fourth time. The following day I traveled south to Portland to meet up with an old friend, the one who first introduced me to her music & who I’d attended my first three shows with, to experience her again.

Though I always feel such a powerful urge to freeze beautiful moments in time, I rarely document concerts anymore because it’s important to me to remain in the moment & let every emotion run its course uninterrupted.

Unlike the Seattle show, though, the Portland show was general admission & my friend & I were right up front with a perfect, unobstructed view. & I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to capture such a dark & delicious performance.

I saved the last slide in this post for her opening act, Jonathan Hultén, whose music I had never heard before but was moved by & grateful to experience a second time. Serendipitously, we happened to cross paths at a coffee shop in Portland the morning of the show & share a little moment that made the day even sweeter. taken in Roseland Theater by @torchesforghosts

3

2

25 days ago

3

0

a month ago

•
“Who were you yesterday?
Who are you today?
I’m laughing at all the right jokes.
I’m passing for everyday folks.

But I’m not one of you.
(Can’t you see it?)
Whole ‘nother planet, I’m just passing through.
(Did you notice?)
I like my people weird.”
~Haute & Freddy
•
•
•
(Second photo by @chelseacheese) taken in Frye Art Museum by @torchesforghosts

3

0

a month ago

•
Recently, I took the train a couple hours south to spend a weekend with my treasured friend, Kady, who I wish lived down the street from me. We moved softly through our time together, buying dahlias at the farmer’s market & cards at the bookstore, picnicking at the nearby lake in the fickle sunlight, talking for hours in the backyard, & taking sweet care of each other.

Reflecting on it now, so many little kindnesses stand out, starting with the pink rose she left for me in the room I slept in & concluding with not only making me an egg croissant sandwich for breakfast on the final morning, but paying attention to how I made the same sandwich for myself the previous day & making it for me in the exact same way. I didn’t even know she’d noticed the particular way I’d made my sandwich. That level of thoughtfulness is so meaningful to me; a healing balm in difficult times.

I didn’t take many photos, & most of the ones I did take were blurry & overexposed because I was too in-the-moment to verify the camera settings, but I wanted to add the few that survived to this little photo album of my life to make these lovely memories easy to look back on. by @torchesforghosts

3

3

a month ago

•
I first met Kady a decade ago. Over the years, her presence in my life has been meaningful on so many levels.

She is fire & earth, feisty & tender, vulnerable & brave, truly one of the most radiant humans I’ve ever known; the kind of person who you’d swear 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔; an all-weather friend who knows how to show up deeply for not only the joy & celebration, but also the grief & the mundane. She’s helped me move & paint the walls; cried with me, then made me burst out laughing; shared homemade meals so nourishing they’ve been scientifically shown to release oxytocin; been there for the birth of her friend’s children & the death of my dog, her very presence holding all of us together.

& she has shown up so deeply for herself, too, in ways that have been goddamn beautiful & inspiring to witness, though I wish such strength wasn’t necessary. Throughout her life, Kady has endured chronic illness & pain, including multiple open-heart surgeries, hip repair, & other ongoing conditions, far beyond what most people ever experience. This abundance of challenges has long impacted her ability to work, which adds a financial burden to what is already hard enough.

She’s in the midst of the long & arduous process of applying for disability, but in the meantime the call is being put out to summon the village because Kady has always been that village for us. Even if you’ve never had the pleasure of her company, I hope you can see from these words & images what a gift to this world she is. & if you feel called to show her some kindness, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆.

In Kady’s own words, “Living with chronic illness is just so fucking hard. The unpaid labor of staying alive often goes unseen & trying to access disability services can feel dehumanizing, so thank you for seeing me & loving me.” by @torchesforghosts

3

6

3 months ago

•
This past April, my big little brother, who is 6” taller & 22 years younger than me, turned 23. I swear it was only yesterday that I could hold all of him in my arms at once, so I’m finding this whole “time” thing to be rather disorienting. & damn beautiful, too. Painfully beautiful.

Anyway, we’re both quite fond of handmade gifts, so I decided to honor the occasion by painting his portrait—in a looser, messier style I’ve been experimenting with in which you begin with quick lines & paint splatters, then build layers that still allow for those early markings to show through.

Figuring that having his own face on his walls might feel a little odd or vain, I decided to also create accessories (à la Mr. Potato Head) to hopefully make it more bearable. I then placed the portrait on one side of an acrylic frame & the accessories on the other side, allowing for easy costume changes.
•
•
•
(Note: The gift was delivered on time in April; I’m just slow to post on social media.) by @torchesforghosts

3

2

3 months ago

I first met Saara 5 years ago in the jungles of Costa Rica. We were strangers from different parts of the world (Seattle & Trinidad) who met up with other strangers to create magic together in the wild, to be feral & connected, to fill our cups & remember how quickly strangers can feel like family when you are soft & open.

Many of my favorite memories of the experience were with Saara. Like when we hiked through the wilderness to swim under a waterfall; the jungle so thick our guide had to clear the way with a machete. At one point, the path became a treacherous ledge too narrow to fit more than a single file line. Saara turned to me, a little fear rising in each of us, & asked to hold my hand, which I happily offered, & we held on tightly, keeping each other steady until it felt safe again.

Or in between the rapé ceremony (in which a shaman blew medicinal plants into our nostrils) & Temazcal (a Mayan sweat lodge ritual) when we sat in the dirt overlooking the jungle & talked like old friends. Or when we marinated in the hot springs like sirens ready to lure every man to the rocks.

When you meet people under such circumstances (& in places where none of you actually live), you never know if you’ll see them again. Having attended a few experiences like these & bonded so deeply with my fellow travelers, I feel like little pieces of me are strewn across the world. & there is something so beautiful about that, but it also means living with a near-constant ache for connections that are far away.

So, when Saara reached out to say she was coming to the States & asked if we could meet if she included Seattle in her itinerary, I felt thrilled. As soon as we saw each other she burst into tears, which summoned tears to my eyes too. I’m so grateful for those extra hours, walking through Pike Place Market, sharing life stories, teaching her how to make snapdragons talk, & crying again when we parted; so grateful for the effort she made for just a little more time with a weirdo she met in the jungle.

May our paths cross many more times again, sweet friend.
•
•
•
1-4: Seattle
5: Post-hike waterfall swimming in Costa Rica
6-7: Hot Springs in Costa Rica
(7 by @groovemec) by @torchesforghosts

40

15

3 months ago

•
In the midst of time’s
cruel indifference, I am turning—
from maiden to crone,
crone to demon,
demon to god,
god to woman, coming
full circle. All of my rage
alchemizing, all of my fury
justified, all of my sweetness
turning bitter
in the glow of this strange fire;
my shadow side
coming to light,
shapeshifting,
outgrowing the wings
forced upon my back
to carry the sins
of men too small to grasp
how small they are; a single cell
in the womb of a woman. Still,
they make god in their image,
force-feed the lie
that we came from their rib,
our only purpose
to be of service.
Fuck that.
•
•
•
One of my dearest friends was recently telling me about what Japanese Hannya masks represent: a woman consumed by rage & sorrow so intense that she transforms into a demon. I imagine that I am not alone in finding this deeply relatable.
•
All portraits from the Demon Era series • Made with acrylic, oil, &/or watercolor paint on paper • $100 each (not including shipping) • DM for purchase by @torchesforghosts

3

2

4 months ago

•Part IV of IV:
Ahead of the retreat on Orcas Island, each of us was asked to bestow an offering—an activity, a workshop, a gift, an experience; whatever we felt called to share.

Our offerings were compiled into a loose schedule of yoga & dance classes, cold plunges in the bay, a writing workshop, a knot-tying lesson, camp games, nourishing meals; each of us free to opt in or out of anything & honor our own energy levels & needs.

Knowing there would be a number of planned physical activities, I wanted to provide something flexible & creative; something that would result in a keepsake to remember the experience by.

In a communal space, I laid out heavy-duty paper fastened into a single canvas, 17 tubs of acrylic paint, watercolors, inks & glass fountain pens, paintbrushes, carbon paper, markers, colored pencils, & pastels. & instructed everyone to make their mark as they felt called to throughout the retreat; to experiment with the reactions between water & ink, oil pastel & watercolor; to play with zero thought to composition or
skill; to layer & entwine our etchings.

On the afternoon before the last day, I brought the final artwork into the meadow behind the house to an old, wooden stage hidden from view by a downed tree. Listening to pretty music in the shade, I cut the artwork into dozens of smaller works then placed them in double-sided hanging frames; one for each person.

While I sat there, my heart swelling from too much beauty, I heard a slight rustling of leaves beyond my periphery & turned to see a doe step out of the woods like a mythical creature. We looked at each other & there was such a sense of calmness I almost thought she was going to walk right up to me. But then she turned & walked gracefully back into the forest; the briefest of visions.

I didn’t realize until later that the lyric that happened to be playing right then (from “Since the Beginning” by Olivia Fern) was:

“𝘾𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪?
𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪
𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚.”

& that felt good & right. taken in Orcas Island by @torchesforghosts

3

1

5 months ago

• Part III of IV:
“The way
it happens is quiet,
you know, like this,
like the morning.
I put my hands against my chest & feel
what’s been there, waiting
curled up inside me; a small animal.
You can do it too.
The planet needs us to be good; that’s all.
I listen
to the universe saying
something
through the walls of my skin.
& when the moment comes—
& it will come—
say 𝒚𝒆𝒔
before you even know
what you’re saying
𝒚𝒆𝒔 to.”
~ @publiclikeafrog23 taken in Orcas Island by @torchesforghosts

3

1

5 months ago

• Part II of IV:
“The color palette when sunset
touches the cloud strata,
the familiar patterns
of the moon cycle
that still, somehow
surprise us;
the boredom,
the ennui,
the evenings of sorrow.
I hope you know that
it’s all a gift.
Our time isn’t slipping away
because we never held it.
All we can hold
is grace & mystery
& the warmth of each other.”
~David Gate
•
•
•
Slide 6 sketch of @themisskady by @chelseacheese taken in Orcas Island by @torchesforghosts

3

3

5 months ago