Don't Be Afraid of Getting Muddy

Since returning to New York, I've struggled to maintain a healthy relationship with my imagination. It's been hungry, starved, and left alone in bursts of abandonment. I felt that, in the midst of what I perceived as failure, I had little worth saying. And what I did have to say, was difficult to face, so I didn't want to deal with it. I was afraid to dip into my well, knowing that the water would come up muddy and polluted. I now know that the muddy thoughts were the most honest thoughts I had to offer. But, I feared my own truths and as a result, couldn't (wouldn't) write.

I was living in a place of sirens and screams, in a reality that did not feel like mine. The veil had been lifted, and it turned out, the world was a lot darker than I had ever imagined. Words made everything too real, so I hid, avoiding anything that had to do with "talking about it".

After a very long creative hiatus, I knew that I needed to channel my fears into something. I invested in a quality camera, and began studying photography. I've learned how to look for light, and create magic out of the ordinary. My search for the beauty of everyday life has helped me to slowly dip back into my well (mud and all), and begin getting reacquainted with the nooks and crannies of my imagination. These past few weeks have been particularly engaging, and I can feel the magic that happens when I'm in tune with my own creativity. I can sense the changes, and can feel myself lighting up. This is what inspiration feels like.

How do I maintain this powerful state of creativity? By owning it. By embracing it at it's fullest, and indulging every impulse, every whim. By feeding it a rich diet of life, love, nature, and art. There will always be ups and downs--that's part of the creative process. Self-evolution, or the discovery and rediscovery of my own being as I grow and change.

Tonight, I will take my camera down to the beach and set up for the Super Moon Lunar Eclipse. As the sky glows, I will embrace the journey I have taken. I will make peace with the struggles, and allow them to inspire me. I will reach deep into my soul, dig through the muddy waters, and unearth the words that I buried. I will dance on the shore, celebrating my creativity, and welcoming it home. It's been a year since I've written in earnest, and it has been a strange journey. The flame is lit, the fire is roaring. I'm here, and I have a lot to say.

Observations on a Tuesday Morning

The smell of burnt toast and fresh coffee slip through open windows and into the early morning streets.
Waltzing trees wave farewell, as their leaves prepare to die.
Summer is gone, and the wind wraps itself around my bare arms, whispering "where is your sweater?"