Tunga-Tunga Residency

When we can’t find what we’re looking for, we build it. We make the space we need.

At least that’s what I believe, what I’ve done in the last few years with my company and my nonprofits. Since moving to Los Angeles, I’ve been searching for the spaces where I belong and experiencing life to be a strange combination of highs and lows that blend together beautifully, creating a perfect teeter-totter.

In a previous moon mail, I shared that others have asked me, “what are you doing here?” (here being Los Angeles). In the last few months, the question “what are you doing here?” (here being in this world) has bubbled up more seriously from myself. Some days I can find the answer, and other days I’m lost. I know a direction, but also don’t know it. I’m sure of a purpose, but also not sure. This feeling of not knowing felt uncomfortable.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across a website of an Interdisciplinary Artist named Lenka Clayton. At one point, in the beginning of her motherhood journey, she realized there were no residencies that supported her where she was in life (as a new mother and artist) and decided to create her own: an “Artist Residency In Motherhood,” where she committed to it for three years.

Since moving to Los Angeles, I’ve looked for residencies and found nothing that could support someone like me. This term, “someone like me” led me down a rabbit-hole. What does that mean, “someone like me?” For a few weeks afterward, I wondered what an Artist Residency would look like for “someone like me.” Who am I anyway?

After some thought, I decided that someone like me meant someone who:

Is a parent with an older child - more independent but still needs constant care and attention
Is unwilling to sacrifice time away from family in order to pursue a goal or passion (at least for the next few years of my child’s life)
Is between two countries - traveling back and forth regularly to Canada for work, but primarily because of custody agreements
Is able to work (in one country) but not “legally” allowed to work in another (hello TD Visa)
Is unsure if settling permanently anywhere can be realistic at this stage
Is not fully part of any space - whether it’s the cities I travel between (Ottawa, Canada or Los Angeles), or any of the groups and communities I intersect/weave between (identities are hard)
Is not committed to a standard work schedule because I create my own hours
Is not working in a dedicated studio space, in my home or elsewhere
Is considered older but also not old (I’m almost 40 and people still think I’m in my 20s)
Is considered “emerging” in some areas of art, but also considered “established” in others
Is trying to balance business, life and art in an uncertain situation

What residency could foster someone who feels neither here nor there, who doesn’t feel grounded, someone who truly feels “in the middle” of… everything. In my language, “in the middle” translates to “tunga-tunga.” It felt perfect.

Tooh-NGAH-Tooh-NGAH. I’m already living and feeling this way, so why not create with it, rather than against it. Rather than run away from this uncomfortable feeling, ask, “what will happen if I run into it?” If I turn this into an experiment, an exploration, what will emerge from it?

I’ve been invited to be present with tunga-tunga. I’ve built the space I need because I couldn’t find it anywhere, and I invite you all in with me.

Thank you for being part of this journey.
Happy full moon.

Love,
Mai