Thoughts ricochet around the walls of my brain, playing a game of jumping from synapse to synapse. Ebbing and flowing, modulating like the ocean’s waves, leaving me with a mesmerizing glazed appearance of someone with very little resistance. I feel it all, I am at one with the idea of the sea. With my arms outstretched, I call it home.
Remnants of past lives linger in old photo albums (of which I have many); my eyes show that I always longed for the future. That future is now, for many never see a tomorrow. A shiver passes throught us at the thought of how quickly a close one can be taken. The year 2020 will be remembered for the loss of so very many (not just from covid, but also due to wars and hate killings), how do we endure? Is this simply human nature? When will we evolve? The transgression of loss, in what shape does it really leave us emotionally, do we truly understand how deeply we are affected? The ability to keep on moving forward when you just want the world to go into full halt mode so that you can take a breathe and begin to process the millions of emotions washing over you. Do we carry these memories in our blood and pass down through generations? Is it that memory that keeps us fighting, never leting go what was? Never forgetting...
How does one manifest their ideas into existence? I venture within safety’s bounds, afraid to lose what I have gained, too afraid to abandon my path along the road of future endeavors. I embrace the safe; steer clear of wayward paths leading me to the unknown. For it took me quite some time to get on this path of stability. The fear of straying from this road is deeply rooted in my brain from learned mistakes of the past. I am terrified of letting go of what I have even if it holds me back from what I could become.
Life plays it’s tricks on us, we try with all our effort to gain as much as possible to just be. Why does it take so much simply to maintain our daily existence? Day to day duties require so much effort that when it comes time to pursue what we really want, our minds are exhausted. We run around like ants under attack only to find that little has really been accomplished to create your place in the world. It is challenging at best, incredibly painful at its worst.
Creating art does not relieve one from the daily struggles of life; it only makes it more palpable. My mind never ceases its internal dialogue. But making art gives me challenges that I can conquer and manifests into realities of artwork I never could have even imagined. I love making art for that reason, for the surprises it delivers. I endure the rough patches to arrive at places unknown, unimagined. It offers me the freedom to fantasize and be able to share my ideas with others. In the end, it is the sharing that makes it worthwhile, taking me out of the vacuum of my solitude and deposits me back into society. We all need a reflection to see our worth. My hope is to have a body of work to be proud of and continue to manifest the creative gene I was given to the best of my ability.
Just a few thoughts for the day.
Cheers, Callie
CallieArt.com
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