JOURNAL
Maximilla Lukacs and Indigo Sparke
"There is an unspoken language between women. Especially between women artists. It is like a shared frequency through which novels can be communicated with a simple knowing glance. Every now and again - like a bolt of lightning - someone comes into your life that exactly embodies a mood, a feeling, a way of being that is exactly aligned with your creative vision. And from these exchanges, however brief, come forth very unexpected things - images, words, sounds, ideas, songs, films, etc.
I met Indigo Sparke in April of 2018 in Topanga Canyon, CA. I had heard bits and pieces of her music through our many mutual friends, but we had yet to meet in person. We had barely gotten through introducing ourselves when we jumped straight into talking about doing a project together. She told me that she was leaving to go back to Australia in May so we began to brainstorm about something we could create in the short time she was here. We were both feeling very inspired by “Women Who Run with the Wolves” by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes (Indigo collects copies of the book!) as well as the photography of Francesca Woodman. The photos and poem that follow are the result of this first creative spark of inspiration."
- Maximilla
Blush Void by Indigo Sparke
roaming wild
with a ragged mind
little body shivers
tiny earthquakes
rivers wash break and shake the
dust off hard heavy heartbeats
fall
everything moves fast...
right at the edge of my soul as i delicately unfurl
and hurl my wide open heart
out
into the abyss
i fold into another dappled
second minute hour day month year illusion Aeon
lifetime
a subtle embrace
a tender blue morning a wake walking dream a reality so sweet
and hills that hold as the sun rises, i melt ooze
drip
out on that horizon as the days young rays seek out blush
honeycomb on my salt licked skin
and limbs like flowers wrap around (time) and open
gentle so gentle
open up and bloom they whisper sweetly and honestly
so, we bloom... like nectar to the world and her bees
breathing, hushed eternity on my lips
the universe reciting psalms my palms so carefully holding
i dance
this diminutive divinity above heaven and under a blanket of stars
all of natures teachers whispering her incantations to some woman
deep inside to some deep woman
dying another graceful death