“ If there is no passion in your life, then have you really lived? "

There were forty seven of us. 

Forty seven of us on just five walls. 

It felt good to see my work up there and felt good to a part of something big, knowing that everyone had gathered there to share one thing in common. I stood there and looked around, proud of this little achievement of mine, a dream I wanted to reach for years now. All of a sudden, it became real. How do you cope with an emotion like that? How do you deal with how your heart feels when it's bursting at the seams? 

And now all I want is more. I want to feel more of that heavy heartbeat, feel the anxiety of how people reacted to my art, feel the adrenaline that I felt when I stood next to my work and feel how my cheeks felt from smiling all night.

Oh my, I tell you. 

That feeling.. that feeling that crept through my bones. It truly was something else 

and I can't wait for the day it comes to see me again. 

Thanks. No really.... Thanks.

Dear Universe,

You've played with my emotions these first two weeks of January, you really have.

Displacement. Inconveniences. Relief. Stress. Tears. Worry. Weakness. Pride. Love. Happiness. Confidence. Euphoria. Excitement. Sadness. Laughter. Warmth. Then of course messing with the little fella. That really wasn't cool. 

You see how you test me with all that you can possibly give me in just two weeks? If this isn't a black and white sign  of what you have in store for me then I guess I'm in for more surprises. But just know that I'm kinda emotionally tired already. What a way to pick at my feelings.  But don't get me wrong, I'm not mad. After all, you granted me an accomplishment. You granted me a goal that I achieved, you gave me determination, and you gave me a piece of something that I know is out there for me. It kinda rules out all the bad vibes you've been sending me. For the first time in years, I believe I got this. 

So please know that my thank yous have double meanings. Thanks for giving me a shit two weeks, I really didn't need it. But thanks for ending it with fulfillment. Now that was what I really needed. 

I get it. I do.

What do you think?  Reckon its time to give this girl a break? 

Just sayin'.

always, 

me

.and the fingers found my paints.

Day twenty four.
Behind on the photography and this is why.

Life should be about spontaneity.
It should be about not having to think and ponder about things too much.
Thoughts turn into worries and then worries turn into doubts.
Empty canvases have been sitting in the spare room for months.
And for months I have tried to convince myself that they needed to be filled.
And for months I have doubted my ideas.
Then in one moment, I felt the urge. No questions were asked, my brush just headed straight to this little piece of canvas paper.
Nothing with hidden meanings, no secret depth of reasoning in the process. Just my pencil, paints and paper.

Simplicity. Black and white.

An emotional abstraction where perhaps it is only I who can feel the emotions within the strokes, but nevertheless, it is a piece of me. A piece of me I am unbelieveably sharing freely, another layer that I seem to be unravelling.

Now I believe that my tendency to overthink prevents my ability to create, 
and perhaps simplicity (and courage) is all I have ever needed.