At home with Michaela Ayers

Image provided by Radical Play.

Detroit Rose: Thank you so much for doing this. This is a series that we've been dreaming up for a while. We've interviewed a couple of people that are a part of the local community. We're all about highlighting women, whether they‘re creators, small business owners, entrepreneurs, or innovators. We, ourselves, want to connect with them, and we want to be able to use our platform to highlight their experiences and what makes them who they are.

Michaela Ayers: Thank you for asking me. I feel really honored to be included. And, as a fellow storyteller, I don't often get interviewed. It’s a treat.

DR: I have a feeling that you’ll be telling a lot more stories and having a lot more interviews as people get to know and connect with you.

MA: I receive that. My name is Michaela Ayers, she/her, and I am lots of things. When you were mentioning creators, small business owners, and entrepreneurs, I'm like, yep, yep, check - all of those things. I feel really proud to come from the family that I come from. I'm a daughter, I'm a sister. I think about all of those identities a lot. Also really proud to claim my identity as an artist these days. I feel like it's something that I have kept on the sidelines for a long time. I'm really excited for the ways that it's coming to the forefront, and to do that intentionally. My day to day looks a lot of different ways because I'm also a facilitator — facilitating workshops and coaching some creatives. So I like that every day has the potential to be different for me. I also have a podcast called Black Her Stories and it's about the creative power of Black women. It feels like one of the many reasons why I'm here, so I feel really proud of that, too, in terms of who I am and how I show up.

DR: I'd like to touch on that a little bit more. Tell us the genesis of Black Her Stories and how have these conversations contributed to your experience getting acclimated to Detroit?

MA: Black Her Stories started in 2019, and it was a project that initially was an event that I did in honor of Black History Month. The reason I wanted to put the event together was because every Black History Month I was feeling really bored and uninspired. Not that I don't think Black history is inspiring, because I do — it just felt like in the dominant culture, we would just hear the same names over and over, and those names were almost always male; I just felt really dissatisfied. There's so many different people we could be talking about, and I felt like I had to do something about that, knowing Black women have contributed so much. I think especially at that time, I was really deep in the weeds of Black feminism. I was really into bell hooks and digging around and the Combahee River Collective and just feeling like the politic of being a Black woman is so underneath the surface of every movement. You would find that a Black woman was the one making sure things got done or being the connector so there was just a fire and a curiosity for me around that.

DR: You didn't want to just touch the surface anymore.

MA: Yeah - and I think that's the Scorpio in me.

DR:  You were speaking about being a very curious person, and I think there really is something to invest in with that part of yourself. This feels like a tribute to your insatiable hunger for yourself, for your community, for Black women. I think that's really special.

MA: Thank you. I'm a very curious person. I definitely think of it as like a superpower: curious about Black women in history, and finding that so many of the contributions of Black women have been erased in the context of science or math or technology …  curious about how Black women today feel about Black woman in the past — that was the initial framing of Black Her Stories. It was very much looking to the past to say, “who are we inspired by?” but then also, “who's with us today that we can actively give their flowers to now?”

​I think the art historian in me is always into that, because I like that past-and-present paradigm. There's always something that we can relate to and there's always some lesson. I think of it almost like a blueprint to say like, “this is how they overcame XYZ, I'm going through something somewhat similar,” and, “how can I use this ancestor as a guide?”

​The event continued through 2020. Even through the pandemic, I did a virtual version of the event. It was like a panel discussion: three Black women talking about their icons, and everyone always told me it could be a podcast. So, I moved to Detroit in April of 2022, and one of the questions I was really asking myself at that time was, “what would happen if i centered Black women in my work? What would that do?” And I think Black Her Stories was one way that I knew I could do that. What better place to do it than Detroit, where there's a high density of Black women? That's how I got started here in this place and in its current form.

DR: I'm so glad that you leaned into what felt right, what was stimulating you, what was teaching you and other people some things, and making connections to our ancestors. You do primarily collage and ceramic work as well. When did collage work begin for you?

MA: I was in high school. My mom was really generous and would always let us decorate our rooms pretty much however we wanted, and I had one room, I think I was like 14, where all of the walls were magazines. That’s one of my vivid memories - putting that together and feeling so satisfied by the whole process.

DR: Do you remember what that looked like?

MA: It was one of those 1970’s houses that had wood paneling - dark brown - and then it was just a slew of Seventeen Magazine photos. I wish I had a picture of it. I definitely remember it just felt really playful.

DR: I wish we could all venture back into our teenage bedrooms.

MA: If I had a portal to go back, it would be to that room for sure.

DR: We at Detroit Rose do workshops where people can develop their own fragrance so that they don't get too swept up in the end product and can really just enjoy the process. We talk a lot about letting intuition act as a guiding tool in the creation process. I want to know what innate aspects of yourself play a role in creation and what has it taught you about yourself?

MA: The thing that I've been exploring most recently is the role of the inner child in the process of creating, and how those early childhood experiences are just so directly connected to whatever it is that comes out. I think about when I was six or seven, my mom took me to a ceramics class at a Benson Community Art Center(*). I took karate upstairs, and there was an afternoon or weekend where I got to take a ceramics class and I remember making an elephant. Having the opportunity to play in different mediums is something that I've really carried forward a lot in my work now, in terms of that instinct or urge to just be attracted to something and to follow that. I think especially more so now I've learned to trust that and hold that in a different way. Learning more about the role of the inner child as a spiritual teacher and learning more about how those early childhood wounds are often transformed through the process of creating has helped me understand how my art practice is a part of my healing practice.

​When it comes to both collage and ceramics, it’s helped my inner child instinct to say, ”how do I want to play?” or, “what does play look like for me right now?” or, “in what way can I be taking care of myself right now if I’m not in a playful mood?” It has helped me not just produce for the sake of producing.

​As somebody who wears a creator hat, small business owner hat, need-to-survive-in-capitalism hat, it’s helped create a sense of balance in the process, and a deeper satisfaction because it helps me ground into the intention of that object. Whether it's an object for me or it's an object for someone in my community — to understand all of the elements of me that I'm infusing into that in terms of a shared vulnerability we all have around our inner child — like a texture that just feels good to hold — those are some of the things that I think about in relationship to my art practice. Because I have a background in art history, too, I'm always looking for that meaning part. I'm always interested in the deeper, richer, symbolic mythology, and cosmology of earthly objects. I think that's the more mature part of my psyche; trying to find that balance between the inner Michaela that just wants to play and eat cookies and have that scribbling experience versus the other part of me that is very much a researcher and likes to dig deep into things. Balancing those two is and will always be a process.

DR: What advice would you give your younger self?

MA: The advice I would give them would be that it's okay to share yourself. I’d learned to keep my desires a secret for a long time. Partially just out of what felt like necessity in certain times … not feeling safe sharing. I think I let that calcify as a young person so that it became a tool that ultimately disconnected me from people. I think I would tell my younger self that it's okay to share a little bit more. And I know it's scary, but, just try and you don't have to wear a mask. That might mean some people won't like it. It might mean you hurt people's feelings. It might mean you get what you want. You don't know until you try to communicate.

DR: Thank you for sharing - I know it's a very vulnerable space to tap into, so I appreciate you sharing that.

What are the primary differences between creating on your own and creating in community with others? Do you lean toward one more often?

MA: Creating with others has become really clear to me that that's what I'm supposed to be doing; trying to be generous with the gifts that I have because I've been given so many. It is a thrill to put on the collage workshops. It is such a joy to help people tap into their creative spirit and inner child and create the conditions for them to unlock something. That process feels very playful, and I'm thinking about that as I'm putting together any kind of workshop related to creativity. In those spaces, I think I feel like I'm not the conductor, but I'm the host. I'm the host of the restaurant: I want to get you seated. I want to make sure your food is hot when it comes to your table. I want to make sure that you're comfortable, that you have enough water, to create something that you feel really proud of that you can talk to somebody about and what it means to you and what power it holds. In that capacity, doing the workshops, the collage workshops in particular, it feels like an honor that I get to do that and feels very different than a solo space.

​In a solo space, I may or may not be going through the same motions. But I think I know my creative process enough to know what the ingredients are … like, what is it that gets Michaela’s spirit high? What are the things that I need to do to fortify myself enough to get to a place where I can create?

I feel grateful that I have the privilege to live by myself and I don't have kids and I'm not married, you know? So I can be very selfish with my time. For me, it's always music and lighting and snacks.

DR: Lots of snacks.

MA: Snack heavy creative process. It doesn't take much for me to be able to tap in and do that thing for myself. That also feels really special because I know that's not always true. I write, too, and I get writer's block, but I don't have that experience often when it comes to creating with collage or ceramics.

​I look at a lot of art. I make sure that I observe art often; whether that's the books that I have in my living room that I'm studying or going to gallery openings or going to exhibits — I eat a lot of art often. I think that helps in that process. The thing that I know to be true, also, is we're inundated with emails and texts - there's so much language around us all the time. I really try to give my brain colors to feast on - and shapes. I really am mindful of that in terms of cultivating my creative life. One of my favorite quotes from Maya Angelou is like: “You can't use up creativity. The more you use it, the more you have.” So I hold on to that in terms of how I can channel my creative power for others or how I can use it for myself.

DR: How many years have you lived in Detroit now?

MA: Just over two years.

DR: How would you describe your relationship with Detroit currently, and how has it contributed to your identity as a Black woman?

MA: I feel like my relationship with Detroit is getting serious — we live together.

DR: Facebook official.

MA: We’re, like, in each other’s feeds … likes all my posts. This weekend it was like a picture frame of going to Eastern Market, going to the [ceramic] studio to throw some things, having the interview with Sabrina Nelson … then going to see some music. A full-ass Detroit weekend. I definitely had a moment where I looked out at the crowd at New Center Park and it was just very Black. It still hits me right in my heart in a very satisfying and seeing way.

​I grew up as a Black person who was in predominantly white spaces for much of my life. It really means a lot. I know that Blackness is not monolithic, and my Blackness is just mine. But, simultaneously, it means a lot to live in this place, with the history that it has, and the other people who've lived here, and the energy of Detroit. From that perspective, as a Black woman who can proudly say that I'm a Detroiter also, it has really done a lot for me in terms of helping me return to myself and also shed a lot of habits from living on the west coast. I love saying good morning to people walking down the street, and that's not something that happens necessarily on the west coast, at least not in Seattle where I lived. Sometimes people would just look at me and be like, what? But I feel like I can't walk down the street without someone even saying hello and good morning or meeting my gaze. In that way, Detroit’s really nourished me; people are just so warm and down to connect. I didn't realize how much I needed that until I moved here.

DR: I'm so glad you're here. When you're feeling stagnant or overwhelmed, what are some rituals or practices that you grant to yourself in order to slow down or tap out?

MA: I think that the thing that I do most consistently for that is my morning routine. It has helped me cultivate a space where I feel like even on the most busy days, or the most stressful moments, I’m at least taking the time before all of that has started to make sure that I'm filling myself up. Sometimes it looks like going for a walk first thing in the morning and seeing the sunrise. Most of the time, it looks like doing some mixture of physical and mental exercise. I've got a couple of different books that I'm studying and I'll spend time with those and do my journaling. I’ll do yoga, sometimes Pilates, to move the energy - I'm diligent about that. Through that process, I've learned that I am most creative in the morning, so I try to save that creativity for me - let me give this to Michaela, what does she want to do? Make sure I'm doing that before I give it to other people. That makes such a difference in terms of how I am showing up. The “worker” part of my brain turns on first and says this needs to get done and this needs to get done … why are you still laying here … you need to get your ass out of bed right now … I have to be like but wait.

DR: It’s definitely something to continually practice having a little bit of discipline with because it is so significant to how you feel at the end of the day. What did I give myself? Where am I? Where are my thoughts? Why do I feel this depleted? What thoughts will I carry with me into the bed because I didn't tend to them? Because I didn't answer to this desire to create something, expel energy, get physical, dance around, whatever it is. What happens to that stifling energy?

MA: Right! And then I also try not to look at screens after work, and that’s the hardest with phones, but I really do try to be like, “you're in that room. I’m over here. And don't even look at me.”

DR: Can we just have an app where the phone literally explodes and then just comes back together? It's everywhere around us now. Once upon a time we were just on MySpace and downloading illegal music and that was really simple.

MA: I was actually just thinking about MySpace. For our generation I feel like Instagram is the evolution of MySpace. Obviously you have your page and your feed and all of that, but, I guess I feel nostalgic for the LoFi version. Always. It was very lovely.

DR: Sometimes you just want the the corded phones and the 90’s music.

At Detroit Rose, we like to keep the intention of contributing to those rituals and practices of slowing down, and we talk a lot about You Time; those moments to just check in with yourself. What does your You Time look like?

MA: It would honestly look very similar to what I'm doing now. In terms of making sure that I'm touching my gifts every day in some capacity, and then making sure that I'm sharing those gifts with other people who have similar interests or have similar needs. Within that is having conversations with other Black women about their art. I think of that as ’me time’ for sure. I think that's what Little Me really wanted to do. Now, I'm a little bit better at time management, a little bit better at budgeting time and/or resources and delegating shit and not trying to do it all. That would be more ‘me time’ because then I would really be using all of my gifts the way that I want to; less caught up in the anxiety of: am I doing this right?

DR: We've talked about letting intuition play a role in creation. Does nostalgia play a big role? I know we talked about the inner child and healing — how does nostalgia influence your work, if at all?

MA: I think nostalgia shows up in my work in a few different ways, perhaps. The first thing that came to my mind was music - that's one way I like to tap in to previous selves. 2006 was a whole year for me in terms of music - I feel like I could return to 2006 and just be so satisfied. Listening to Billie Holiday and Wolf Parade and Sufjan Stevens and Led Zeppelin — listening to a lot of different kinds of music that I listen to now. So, that's one way I like to play when I'm making: through the music that I'm listening to, and it doesn't necessarily have to relate to what I'm visually making. That's one of the ways that nostalgia definitely shows up. Then, I think through the image making process, because a lot of my collage explores Blackness and Black history. I do think there is an air of nostalgia in there for periods that I was not a part of, but feel a reverence for. In that way I definitely see nostalgia as like a warm hug. It feels like like my grandmother's kitchen. It feels like like the taste of my mom's sweet potato pie. In that way, I definitely think of it as a guiding force that I may not call nostalgia in the moment, but that's what's operating for sure.

DR: I really can't thank you enough for joining us and answering some questions and allowing us to connect with you a little bit more. As your friend I'm very grateful to get to know you all the time, in every way.

MA: Can I ask you a question? Aside from wanting to have conversations with women, creators, entrepreneurs, etc, all the things. Is there a particular thread that you're interested in or theme that's coming up for you across these conversations?

DR: I tend to gravitate towards the storytellers. I gravitate towards people and women who want to discover what's beneath the surface. I can definitely connect with and indulge in your curiosity. I feel that is a very deep desire within me, and I think Audre Lorde is the one who really coined the term or reminded me of the true meaning of power in the erotic and it lit my soul on fire. Reading that essay was everything I needed to hear as a child. Your deepest desires are real, and the erotic is not to be sexualized; it is to be connected and answered to and it is powerful, and it is true to who you are. I've always felt so connected to something that moves my spirit. Something that feels like a calling, but not really knowing where to turn to or who to talk to, or where's my purpose? Where do I go? Who will affirm these feelings … these thoughts? I think connecting with women, especially anyone who's willing to share that path of following your deepest desires, really continues to fill me up. It reminds me of the power of human connection and the power of community; the power of sharing … it makes me feel alive. We are so rich in what we have. I'm so grateful to not fear that feeling as much.

​You're talking about telling your younger self to share yourself more — it isn't as scary as we thought it might be, but everything around us as children was telling us the opposite: this is your box and this is where you stay, all the other things are things you don't need to worry about. Especially with religion: God has it all here in writing for you - there's no questions to be asked. I had all of the questions all of the time. My friends didn't like it about me, my teachers didn't like it about me, my parents didn't like it about me. But here I am still understanding that it is quite literally the catalyst to my joy and my happiness. Like James Baldwin talks about, it is the confrontation of something that is so heavy and in your face. You can either refuse to confront it, refuse to answer to it - to flip that rock over. Or you can lean into what scares you-what you know to be true.

​When I'm choosing people to interview, it's really just feeling that instant connection and understanding of hearing their desires and needs to look beneath the surface and find the deeper meaning in everything. Because it quite literally feels like it's why we're here. The story, right? It's within all of us.

Learn more about Michaela Ayers’ work and book her services at www.nourish.community.