is and has always been one of my main sources of inspiration.
books, stories, tales...they have their way of carrying my mind and soul away to a different place and nurturing and feeding this heart, but music is what sets me free.
words are their own music, in a way. which is why they are both mentioned in this paragraph.
there are times when I feel the two weave in and out so fluidly that where one stops and the other begins is not even noticeable.
the way that words, too, can be lingered upon and forced into rhythm and rhyme and then become music themselves is such a wonder and blessing.
is the fuel that feeds some inner fire. though at times I have a tendency to get suck in the moment, it seems that this is only the byproduct of overstimulating my senses with so many colors and lights and sounds that are fed to some inner world and interpreted in a strange order.
is something that is very important to me. especially as I get older, as I grow, as I am faced with things, as I learn more about life. I am learning/starting to see that art is in everything. art is something that is very close to my heart. I don't mean I over glorify and pretend to like overpriced abstract paintings that more resemble a Kool-aid stain (though I do think that those works of art have value and can be greatly appreciated in a certain light/mindset).
but art, for me, is in the essence of everything.
color, light, patterns, designs, textures, unassuming faces, the curl of the edge of a poster (and the colors of it and the wall behind it), the feel of a package in a hand (the colors, textures and crinkling paper), the sounds and light of a coffee shop, a train whistle, a car door, the breeze thru a windowscreen, the wind thru a cottonwood tree.
art is not limited to paintbrushes and sketchbooks and museums.
may we learn that the world is not so black and white.
but full of art. full of life. life is art.
all of the previous categories also fall into this one.
// for in this life we cannot correctly, fully or properly label anyone or anything //
what a gift. to be able to experience and feel and appreciate.
I have been feeling an outpouring and overflowing of gratitude.
summer was rough.
that is all.
but we heal and we rise and fall again.
everything is funny and nothing matters?
the only importance of things is what we choose to project on it or happen to feel at the time?
maybe. maybe not.
I know there are absolutes. for in God's world, nothing is random.
and honestly? that is why I'm not completely hopeless.
grief. disappointment. seeing close ones suffer thru hard times. never knowing what to say. being forced to examine ones personal values. being forced to make life altering decisions. knowing and feeling yourself and those closest to you go unnoticed by the selfish and stress causing actions of others.
and maybe this is all a rant, and in a year or two, these words won't matter..
but I do know this. that we all matter. so much.
no one is alone.
no one is ever alone.
and oh how I could almost cry at the simplicity of that.
I know this is a lot. and I know it has been a while.
but oh how faithful and patient He is. how kind and gentle with me.
(last week at this time, I was in Oklahoma, the week before that, Colorado. and exactly one year ago, I had just quit a job so that I could have the freedom to do things like this. and now I am here. not all the way, not without struggle or stress, but I am here.
and I know that it is the right thing, even after it all.)
just some (aka A LOT OF) thoughts and feels from recently.
I have missed this place and you all.
please say hey either thru comment or email and let me know what up with you!!!
I am nothing. I am fading. faded.
I am the pieces of dust on the dashboard, the list of unopened messages.
I am not the withering plant, but not the blooming one.
I am the guitar picks lost in your room. useful, but replaced and not needed.
I am not worthless, I know that much.
but just nothing.
and I have my own adventures.
and my own ideas and worlds and plans.
but do they exist?
and it is okay to be nothing, I think,
it is better to feel hurt quietly than to cause it for someone else.
silence buzzes in my ears.
tomorrow feels rather empty.
(written right before disappearing.
it is home now
the quiet fog.)
learning to feast on God's word.
to let it fill me.
I made excuses, even recently. but in reality, in the day to day, I am just never enough.
and that is ok.
it's not like there was nothing to say
or nothing to feel.
how will you know if you never try...
now is the time...
I may have lost my way.
is it just the lot of those like us
to be so severely misunderstood?
we wander around
bumping into one another
before losing courage and running back to our hiding holes.
why did I dissapear?
I'm not entirely sure myself.
sometimes talking feels impossible.
sometimes it's terrible to stop feeling but want to,
and to feel everything without wishing.
seclusion. silence. simple.
(these words have turned out to be more serious and sad than I intended
for though it exists
the quiet has turned out to be so much more comforting.)
hi, hello. there have been a lot of things going on, but yet a lot of emptiness.
I decided not to do many things and have been trying to do others. He is faithful.
choosing silence, quiet reflection and books over social media right now.
space is essiential to breathing at this time.
(i tried to go back last night, and found that there was still no room)
in other news, my computer decided to die, but I now have one back in my hands.
hello blogging souls, hello breathing.
hello summer, halfway gone but still just as rich :)