It’s funny how life changes us… We hunt and gather the things we think we need all our lives surrounding ourselves in a big plastic bubble. Looking out at the world as it spins by at speeds often times faster than the mind can fathom and then suddenly stops. Leaving us crashing about in our self made bubbles.
The recent events of my life have left me feeling this way more so than I could ever hope to eloquently express in words or paint. As I watch the dust of the life I thought I had settle around the life I have left I often wonder why, and what for does all this madness of the heart mean. Lost souls crashing about in their ( our ) bubbles hoping blindly and at other times with great foreknowledge that future things will be more great or somehow better than the day before….
As I sit in the studio rummaging the remnants of my old life, picking up the pieces I’d like to carry forward to the new I wonder….. For what purpose…. I read a story about hope this morning that has got me thinking a great deal about these things, all to often I feel broken, tired, misguided and lost in my sea of colour and words. Emotions spilling over into the common lives of those around me…. I stand dripping in wonder and dismay at myself… Have I arrived or wandered so far off track that I’ve lost all hope of finding the child I seek. Is he, am I buried under the weight of a poetish painter. Or is the poetish painter the boy I seek. Am I to be that hope and star for others or to myself when at times all I see is the blindness of the nothing I see in front of me…… That endless stream if random floating choices… Door two, no three or four… Pick one!!! Pick six doors!!!!? At times I wonder if it even really matters which door we pick or what colour it is. As the outcome often feels the same as we ( I ) travel down these same paths again and again until we finally find that light switch that’s been hiding in the dark all these years.
I have to say today….. I hate this new life… I hate the loneliness of it. I hate the fear if it and the constant change of it. To go from hopeful and blind to scared and alone and thus back again full circle has made me bitter and tired. Yet I’m forever hopeful.. Seems like a self fulfilling collision course with disappointment at times. Disappointing myself, disappointing those around me as I blindly stumble through this life searching for a light I’m not even sure is still on…
Any how that’s enough rambling from me this this morning/afternoon and evening. Today I’ll hide from the world and paint my heart, spill my soul and vanish in the night to hopefully wake again tomorrow with a new sense of hope. Now for paint:
Reminiscent of Rothko meeting Dali on the moon as the blues fade and block into what will be a dividing line a moon floats gently just above the waters edge casting a shadow that finds itself wrapped around and transforming… Not unlike myself at this moment.
As always try… To be brave… Be bold… And thrive in the life you have.. For we never know when things will change..
A life in progress