Have you ever wondered what happens when you let pain become your paintbrush?
I have. I do.
In fact, these days, pain is the only tool, paint, and canvas with which I create.
It’s
all I feel as of late.
In many different ways, for many different reasons, in so many multifaceted intricate capacities, when I step back, I wonder how I manage to survive the visceral reaction I have to what I’m seeing and feeling, never mind actually living it.
In fact, I think living it has been the easy part. You push past it, you weave through life with blinders moving from one painful reality to the next and everything seems to blur into one Cryptically, mostly insane, painting of ‘what the fuck else can possibly happen now?’
But when I look at the art my pain has created, some of which I will share, it’s almost as if I’m forcing myself to see beyond the blinders I had on and look at every pain point, dissecting it and living it to its full capacity.
It hurts. My soul bleeds. And yet, each time the pain forces its way out, my addled brain determined to bring the bigger picture to life and make sense of it somehow.
It doesn’t. Make sense, that is. Not all the time.
Some lessons are easy, and the answers are clearcut and dry—if, of course, life were simple. But as a mom, the answers aren’t the easiest to swallow…And the choices laid out before those answers? Well, they aren’t truly choices at all.
So it continues.
Anger. Distrust, Pain. Creation. Observation. Helplessness. Anger. Distrust. Pain.
It’s a cycle that I can’t seem to break. And I pray to the universe that somehow, one day, everything will come together; a raw, sharp, bloody, jagged jigsaw puzzle. That is as beautiful as it is chaotic.
If only just to observe. Grow, and move past it all to the next.
Because the one thing I have learned?
Creation is not reliant on the past
it is a reflection of your craft.
It is a reflection of your evolution.
And your greatest piece is simply...
the next.
I’m just hoping…my next cycle is one of healing.
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