During the pandemic, my dear friend and collaborator Alma Tetto wrote an essay called Radical Repair, it's been reverberating in me since. Upon first reading it craved to hear it read aloud, to hear its sonic resonance in her voice and to feel it’s effect while absorbed in a group container. 

Fast forward to three years later, Viktoria Gokun and I met at Community Chorus, a group started by Carolyn Pennypacker Riggs, offering a protest solution - to sing our demand for change instead of scream it.  After chatting for just a few minutes after we met, I mentioned to Viktoria wanting to host a multi-layered mending party, she told me that she had synchronistically been wanting to offer mending workshops.

I was deeply in need of the opportunity to gather intimatley and merge the practical and the emotional, to do some embodied reflection on the mending that has come to pass since the pandemic and still needs to be done collectively and within ourselves and individuals. 

One of my prrimary relationships that's been on the mend over the past few years is with a dear friend Laura Sullivan Cassidy, an artist, writer, and grief coach based in Seattle, who for many years, opened her home up for gatherings of this sort. This project is in part to honor her role as host and hierophant. After telling her my plans she divinated an incredible self-guided word spell exercise called Isochronal Confirmations which has become paramount to the process of Rhizomatic Repair. 

The biggest component of this work is addressing the repair between modernity and the earth. We do this by engaging in the composting of inner strata, of whatever is laying dormant and eating away at us or narratives that need to be reworked. This is our basis for the Isochronal Confirmations. The written confirmations of each participant is then feed to a vermiculture ecosystem that I'm nurturing. The compost that the worms create with our confrimation offerings then nourish seeds of lead remediating plants. The plants are redistributed back to patricpants and can be planted to clarify the soil of our communities. 

Collectively, many of us are in a moment of “letting go”. What I appreciate about the various spiritual and yogic traditions that I’ve been exposed to is the idea of a double action, or the both / and. While we're in the midst of this massive movement of letting go and shedding, there's also always the flip side to every coin. In this case the other face of the coin looks like holding on.  So instead of discarding or disposing of something, this practice asks, "what can be salvaged? What can be re-made?"