Why “Skull And Moss”?
▾▴▾ Skull And Moss—Mind And Body ▴▾▴
When the mind and body integrate, the soul is safe to ignite.
Photography by: Thrive With Creativity
Why “Skull And Moss”?
The name Skull and Moss was chosen out of love for juxtaposition — the tension between opposites and the beauty that emerges when they meet.
At first, I played with representing Skull as “fragility” and Moss as “resilience”; a gentle contrast between life and death, as it were. I loved the idea that moss is used in medicine and can grow in the most unlikely of places, even on a skull, and I desired to capture the reassurance of resilience in my artwork.
As I lived more life, however, I realized skulls have also been used as a symbol to protect and celebrate life, and mosses are certainly not invincible, as they often struggle without the right conditions (water, lol, they need water) — which, of course, directly contradicts what I had previously thought. Turns out, the “fragile” thing can outlast, and the “resilient” thing can require care.
Honestly, in the complexity of it all, I probably would have just changed the name, but the LLC name was already bought out of inspired spontaneity. A commitment was made before the content was fully understood, how tragic. And yet, that ‘tragic’ spontaneity became the catalyst for depth; it’s exactly what I needed in order to open some of my many doors to allow the meaning to deepen. And if you’re wondering, yes, it did so beautifully because what I initially discovered wasn’t wrong… it was simply incomplete. I’m glad I was unable to shy away from complexity, even if it was difficult at first.
▾▴▾ Skull And Moss—Mind And Body ▴▾▴
Over time, “skull” became a symbol for “mind” because the mind, too, is fragile yet enduring. It also has a protective shell and develops rigidity in many ways, but this is important because that rigidity is what provides a structure for all the soft stuff inside. Skull is the container and with awareness, we can choose what that container lets in and keeps out.
In my experience, having the proper structure is what allowed my mind to truly be free in my creative pursuits; having set limitations that only limit me in ways that prevent disaster. Skulls can be scary, skulls can be cool, and skulls can be art. Skulls protect what is fragile so life can be celebrated. This was helpful for someone like me, to relate all of these aspects to “mind”.
Likewise, “moss” became a symbol for “body” because the body, too, is hardy and resilient, but as we age, we find that it requires consistency and care. It does need specific conditions in order to thrive and these conditions can vary based on the type of moss we have, and yet these conditions all have similar qualities. We need water, nourishment, and a quiet place so we can grow. We, too, lack physical roots. The roots we have develop in our minds and once we become aware, these roots can also develop by choice. Plus, water. Lots and lots of water with electrolytes or I dry out like a prune.
▾▴▾ When the mind and body integrate, the soul is safe to ignite. ▴▾▴
Again through personal experience, I found that when my mind and my body finally had the right conditions in place, my soul was able to come alive. I hesitate to liken this to a phoenix but here we are — the Mother of Dragons. There are many symbols for transformation, though. Butterfly, werewolf, lotus, tree, ouroboros, Spring. Point is, when I was ready, my soul showed me my passions and with the right structures and nourishments in place, I was finally able to act upon those passions. It was only when I was able to integrate my skull and my moss that I felt safe enough to act on my heart’s desires and be seen in my entirety. The integration is what made me feel whole within — enough to let others see it too.
Sometimes I think “if only I knew sooner,” and yet, then I wouldn’t be who I am today. As it turns out, pretty sure we thrive as soon as we are ready to, and not a moment sooner.
Dragon Heart by Chrissi Kino, circa 2015-2017
I started this in early 2015 on a day when I was particularly sad. I started towards the left by painting smiley faces everywhere. Next, I realized it was a dragon! I decided the dragon was smiling, too, and radiating love from it's heart --- Painting is a process. Art is a process. You don't have to be feeling good and you don't have to know the finished product before you begin. I signed this painting in 2017 because it took me two years to realize what environment my dragon was in: it's one where there is light, even in darkness.