The first time I knew I could channel, I was eighteen, busy painting a self -portrait. That was the first time I felt it: I am the medium.
To arrive at this consciousness now, years after, it is all explained. Now it all has a name, some kind of meaning and explanation.
I’ve thought channeling to be many things: The moon, the stars, the blood in my veins, the rhythm of sunset and sunrise, keeping pace.
It could be letting go, you know. Of it all, of reason, of logic, of language.
It’s a beautiful beautiful thing.