Higher Ground.

Who are we? Are we the labels that our parents, schoolmates, or co-workers give to us? Are we: tall/ athletic /smart /nice /pretty? Are we lucky/ guilty/ beleaguered/ fabulous, or crazy as media agents often portray? 

Well here's a question: what if we are simply who we came into this world as? A label-less, blank slate - a body, heart and mind only requiring food, shelter and water for its function. 

Given that audacious opening for life as action, who do we choose to become?


I'm taking this space to label Cathie Cargill the Queen of Hattiesburg, Mississippi. She is Southern Royalty who wears her sculpted dreads like a crown and her garments as textured maps of personal history.
She's turning her blank slate into an inventor's wanderlust. She's twirling fleece into nests of cozy effects,  bending her form into a patient yogini, and pointing life's compass north after the death of her brother, Ricky. His skateboard/shield guards over her;  'Lucero' his royal crest. 

She's tying all of her labels together with as much depth, soul and beauty as one of her knitted pieces. Long live the Queen...

(N0. 15 of the '250...mofos')