remember when i said i was going to start facing my fears?
yeaaah, about that. first of all, i didn't think i'd have to search more than a few blog posts - it felt so recent, so much more recent than april, anyway.
also, i am totally slacking. getting in my own way. distracting myself. and in general? i'm in a pretty terrible mood despite being nowhere near the point in my cycle when i can actually blame my cycle and so it's like this:
i've concluded that one reason i have avoided art journaling, despite its therapeutic benefits, is because there are some dark places i still haven't gone (and don't wanna) or perhaps some that i need to revisit which isn't to say i'm living in the past and wanting what i cannot have or maybe it is. either way i really need to spend some time in this place to figure that out.
it's time to let go of even more stuff.
it's scary. i want someone to hold my hand and tell me it will be okay.
no one's ever done that. not, literally, anyway, but the story tellers that weave the timeless tale have left breadcrumbs of belief and faith and hope. it's necessary and it will be okay i tell myself.
i realized that i needed to journal and that it's going to be dark because that's all i've ever done. bitch and complain and vent and rage and cry on page after page. i don't write happy nonsense, until...you know, i push those boundaries within myself and decide to censor myself a lot, despite what some readers may think, every time i post a blog.
that said, the other day it occurred to me that journaling, like REAL journaling has always been a more private affair, only a few pages have i ever shared with few people from my actual journals and i have stopped myself from returning to that place.
the very place i need to go. it also occured to me that i cannot truly embrace the light and the dark if i don't give both room to exist - journaling will give the dark its space and right now all i'm doing is writing, it isn't a colorful artful experience but practice in the art of words. the rest will follow.
i think there's a lot of heavy stuff i need to put down and i know my blog isn't the best place for it or i don't think it is or i don't think i want it to be.
in another life, someone once asked me who i write for. the answer is a double-edged sword because of course the answer is me until somebody asks and the answer becomes me and my audience. no one is immune to the observer effect. not like this hasn't been an ongoing issue of comfort for me or a classic case of what the hell is my point but the issue of boundaries has come up in this week's flying lessons (kelly rae's e-course) and i remember that boundaries=healthy. boundaries=really, really good stuff.
so, i have to let go of some shit to make room for all these new boundaries.
i also have to apparently paint this girl's face over and over and be completely unsure about the direction of this painting because what started out as "i have always been a storm" is now something new and unrecognizable and i'm totally diggin' the process.
|i watched a change in you. it's like you never had wings.|