Pages — Jas Shalimar

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I was watching what I thought was the last of the yellow sunrise light scatter across the tops of the trees that surround the pool. My attention was drawn elsewhere. When I turned back, to my surprise, I was met with a chorus of glorious golden light, a finale. I was filled with such delight. It, even momentarily, eased the pain that has been creeping up my throat of late.
There is something about the specific combination of the smell of the lemon scented gum and the chlorine, an unusually pleasant pairing, that casts me back to my childhood and conjures feeling in me like a glow radiating out of my chest.

I feel so enthusiastic about deep water running. When I first told Giulia about it, I think her imaginings of Mum and I resembled some kind of divine vision of us walking on water. I didn’t immediately correct her.

Caroline once commented how she enjoyed hearing Mum and I laughing, that too often it is tears that are shed, and go unnoticed, pooling in the water beneath.The imagery that her words invoked stayed with me.

I think that the power of this togetherness is underestimated. I watch women decades older than me be present in each other’s lives in a way that feels so quietly monumental. In the change-rooms they are empowered to express more playful versions of themselves and share with one another a kind of intimacy.

It reminds me of this documentary I watched last year at Melbourne Queer Film Festival, Smoke, Sauna, Sisterhood. It was set in a smoke sauna in Estonia and followed a group of women throughout the year as they practiced the ritualistic tradition of swimming in freezing water then thawing out in a smoke sauna, fuelled by wood they had chopped themselves. In this space of safety they shared their innermost secrets and traumatic experiences, they laughed and they chanted and periodically beat their skin with bundled birch leaves. Through this communion they expelled the shame trapped in their bodies and restored their inherent strength.

Throughout the documentary the seasons changed, and no matter how cold, they would be there, naked, running down to the frozen over lake.

Mum and I love watching the seasons change, being in the weather.

In a way I think it synchronises you more with the velocity of time. Whilst the class thins out during the cooler months the core group will show up to the class, show up for ourselves and each other. Through this we are reminded that in the chaos of life, there is a constant. That makes you feel less alone.

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Fetishes

Sheer fabrics
Soft fabrics
Vertical hems
Narrow Rolled hems on silk
Red bias on blue indigo died fabric
Exposed cotton selvages at the base of dresses
Darts that are shaped for a tummy
Pressed seams
Bias bound seams
Darned patches on loved clothing
Heavy cotton paper (to paint on)
with deckled edges

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I saw Mama Kin Spender perform last year and Danielle’s performance stayed with me. It wasn’t until months had passed before I realised what had stuck in my subconscious. That evening in Spring, she sang and played drums while standing. The way she moved; the music travelled through her in a way I hadn’t seen before. She performed with an urgency. She was vital and sensual. I hadn’t realised that up until that moment I had conflated the ideas of sexuality and sensuality. Words are elusive and we all carry sometimes heavy connotations with them, fuelled by our previous experiences. If you were to empty all connotations and shame from these words, how would you see them? How would you feel about them? Whilst being interconnected, sensuality is not inherently sexual nor indulgent, it simply means ‘of the senses’, and understands the pleasure we experience in perceiving life through smell, touch, sound, sight and taste. I have always been drawn to pleasure and I revel in the sensual pleasures of daily life.

The ritual of applying my essential oil and lip balm.
The scents of cedar wood and ylang ylang, peppermint and lavender.
Moving my body in a way that feels innate.
Wild crazy dancing.
Her skin against mine.
Objects that are a good weight and shape and fit in the palm of your hand.
Singing a song and feeling the music in your body.
Having a hot shower and then letting the water run freezing cold.
The smell of someone who is freshly showered.
The shape of bodies under soft fabrics.
Belly rubs.
Clothing that fits your body like a glove.
Riding home from work and smelling log fires.
Walking down a street and the smells of cooking hanging in the air from houses nearby.
Watching people enjoy food that you have prepared for them with all the love in your body.

To me sensuality is the practice of being deeply connected with yourself and the world around you. It’s giving in to what feels good.

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© Jas Shalimar 2024