The Art of Moving

The art of moving...

Packing, unpacking, nesting/settling in, organization, purging, new definitions of life and the day to day

I want to reflect on every day creativity…

Why do we compartmentalize our experiences?  Too much to remember or hold on to in their entirety?  I forget some of my experiences as I’m moving about my life… I want ALL of my experiences to be a part of my day to day living.

the darkness

what is it about darkness--the absence of light, uncertainty... not knowing that makes one feel fear, sadness, loneliness?  psychologically speaking, it has been found that humans NEED light, sunshine, in order to thrive.  we need the dark to clue us in when it's time for rest and we need the light to force our eyes open, create vitamins in our bodies, and spur our brains and bodies into action.  the darkness serves a purpose, but it's not often comfortable... at least not for me.

i'm grappling with the dark as of late.  you could say that i've always had a slight fear of the dark, both figuratively and literally.  i find myself without light or direction and my good ol' pal fear finds its perch on my shoulder and gives all sorts of dark twists and turns to my already vivid imagination.  eventually, by some strength that seems to always burn deep inside, i manage to pull myself up by the proverbial bootstraps and emerge from my cave, wiser for the ware, but i know that the dark isn't gone forever...  it seems to me that, like that bit of strength and light that burns bright and steadfast deep inside of me, so too does a small flame of darkness, sadness, weakness.  i don't understand it's purpose as clearly as i do the bit of strength and light, but i'm certain that it has one...  maybe it exists solely for me to visit until i am able to figure out why it is there...  and only then will it take its leave.

Drawing:

Strangely meditative and strongly therapeutic…

My mind slips off into a state of transient awareness and I am intensely relaxed and yet almost hyper aware… stimuli pass through me and rather than being interrupted by them, I pull pieces from their subtle effects and allow the rest to float through me, off into the oblivion.

Lines, marks, my pen strokes the page as though it knows where to go all on its own… my hand is guided by the page, my mind engaged, yet fluid…

I drift away.

the creative process:

I am human; I am creative because I am human.

Brain more capable, mind more versatile, spirit more resilient than could ever accurately be given credit for…

Every time I must choose, decide, pick one over the other, I use my creative abilities.

Every time I adjust, modify, adapt, evolve, I tap into the deep well of my creative power.

Every time I speak, form a thought, communicate, gesture, I embody the creativity that lives in every fiber of my being.

I am human; I am creative because I am human.