MOVEMENT I
Drifting Off On A Branch encapsulates the liminal space of the writing mind. The possibility, the spirituality, the detrimental feeling, the Love, Emotion, Humanity, and Identity.
Foreword
What Do I Knead to Survive?
My music, my words, my visions. The ebb and flow of love mirroring grief then passing through, back to me. A perfect circle of rhythm and tongue to expel into the world so it doesn’t not wither inside of me. To take all of the dried flowers that have collected at the floor of me and turn them to bookmarks. Doing this over and over again until the art is bigger than the estranged muse that speaks to me in my silence.
I knead 6 strings, 88 keys, the shutter, the lens, the pen, the paper, the people, the voice–the lung of it all. I knead to drift off on a branch, to use the hands of my heart, to uncage my rabid mind. Imagine, make, expel. I need to create to survive, otherwise the truth of my existence is not always proven by a mirror. I need to use my hands to tune my heart and give my abscess of thought a place to rest that is not inside of me. It has curious teeth and stomach agape. I need to prick the Evergreen trees of my brain, needle by needle and give them each a resting place, sonic soil. This will be my duty, my work of living until the day I am done. I knead creation. I need The Knead.
~Nena Hayes, Founder of The Knead (2023) ☆
