The Art of Emotion

The Art of Emotion, 2002.

As radiant colors pour into my eyes

Emotions too strong for words or control 

Drown me.

Ideas flow as a rushing mountain stream.

A kaleidoscope of hues at sunset

Faint lights from a distant town

A serene willow in a country meadow

Metropoliton motion on a city street

At this instant of inspiration,

I feel alive,

And I feel brave.

The tones.  The motion.  The mood.  The rapture.

A casual corner cafe in the summer's breeze

Autumn tones smeared along the roadside

Thunderous waves on a New England shore

Soft snowflakes falling a winter fire

I gather my tools

As I gather my soul.

The culmination of thought, emotion, and passion

Collide.

As I begin my painting,

I am alive.

The Written Word: Revisited.

 

Here, 2002.

Here, I am in paradise,

Instant comfort and perfect joy

Consume my soul.

A serenity of surrounding

Captivates me.

Here, I sigh as I take it all

In and remember once again

The pleasure of this haven, I love.

Here, it's as if lives, ideas, worries,

Hopes and dreams meet

On hold.

Philosophers compromise,

Poets and critics agree,

Artists and scholars pause,

Politics and religions breathe,

They agree to disagree,

Welcoming any inquiring minds

And all hungry souls.

Here, I see worlds open before

My inquiring mind,

My hungry soul,

I find myself.

Here,

Stories of art,

Of love,

Of war,

Of hate,

Of beauty,

Of God,

Of language,

Of life

Are complete with a grande vanilla latte,

Here, in the bookstore.

We're sorting through a massive stack of plastic tubs, a.k.a. our childhood memories, books, pictures, all those items that we'd like to put in that large storage closet we do not have.  I found a folder full of all my papers and writings from college.  So, in the name of not forsaking these words... Oh Dr. Cotton would be so proud.

Reflecting on Growth

Left and right, companies are closing their doors and one of those is Circuit City, the employer of my husband, for the last 1.5 years.  Next week marks the end of his job.  Surprisingly, I am overwhelmed with such peace that I sometimes, think something is wrong with me.  I know that's not true.

I am not sure that I have ever been so peaceful about such a huge situation.  I mean, the situation seems huge to our lives, our income-- that is important; but it seems so small in comparison, to what God can do.  At the start of this year, one of the areas that we wanted to see growth in our lives was in the area of confidence in God's plan.  That's a dangerous thing to ask for, dangerous like asking for patience. He didn't waste anytime in helping us hold on to that confidence, no time at all.

When I stop to remember how God alone has sustained us and done it in His timing and His own special way, I am confident that this one job was there for us for a season and now God is calling us towards something new, something that reflects that which is greater than us.  We are not sure what that is, but we know it is going to be good.

Having few answers is not always fun, but having confidence is great.  I am certain that had this been a year ago... I would not be so calm.  I thank God for the struggles that have brought me here, to a deeper peace, knowing that His plan is better.

Write this down, Miss Writer

I have never been one to make resolutions.  I've always thought that it's silly to go along with all the hype a new year brings and decide that you are going to make life chances.  Plus, I tend to reject "rules," or anything resembling them, even when I am the one setting them for myself.  I've had to reshape my vocabulary to say things like: I want to do more of this, I'd like to be more... rather than: I can't do this, I have to do this.  I'm not such a fan of the can't and must dos.

Rather, I have really been encouraged to work towards those dreams of mine that I keep in a safe place.  Last year, the anticipation and then arrival of my dear little boy pretty much trumped, oh everything.  He's here and wonderful.  Now I'm more aware of the fact that if I don't discipline myself to focus on delving into my creative thought processes, I could very easily let them slip away in the name of exhaustion.

It is too easy to ignore the voice that says, "Write this down, miss writer."  It is too easy.  Recently, in conversation with some friends during our monthly book club meeting, we began talking about the goals and dreams we have in our lives.  More than one of us noted that achieving these items will take risk and sacrifices, but sans that risk and sacrifices, success is impossible.  Writing is too crucial to who I am to neglect it, to not nurture its whispers and shouts, to leave numerous journals out of sight- thus, out of mind.  

January has brought me a renewed sense of possibility,  and a clearer understanding of how no one else is going to fill the pages of my journal, post my blogs, most of all, start writing that book.  You see, this book haunts me.  I know I want it. I know I love it. I know I can.  Yet, I don't even know what it is or where to start.  Rather, maybe I am afraid to start without knowing where it will lead. Yes, that is very possible.

Some people look at their dreams and fear that they will never ever come to pass. That's easy to me, because I look at my dreams and there is this daunting fear of the great responsibility that comes with such lofty dreams.  I think it is scarier to me to say, "What if all my dreams really DO come true?  Can I handle that?  Am I capable of the strength, discipline, and dedication that accompanies such great passion and purpose?"  It's curious that I despise mediocrity but also "fear" greatness.  I use fear, more in the terms of reverence rather than terror.

The plain truth, I am the only one stopping me.  I no longer want to be my only hindrance.  No resolution is going to reform this, only the pen in my hand and the tap of my fingers on the keys.

Only I can stop me.

Only I can write it.