I’ve been away from my art, away from this blog. Life got complicated again and with it I creatively dormant. The blasé’ s set in.
I logged on hoping to upload my latest rant. But realize I have yet to find the conclusion. My posts have increasingly become a pressure value. I can’t remember when I felt carefree and able to simply draw.Or write a 100 word friday fictioneers.
I have artwork (sold at my show) I need to complete. I’ve already been paid. But thankfully my clients understand and are forgiving friends.
But I don’t recognize myself.
I’ve lost something.
I perused my reader to touch into a community I too long away from and notice Rara’s back. After 15 months she’s free, finally out of prison.
Rara wrote Inside, outside of her husband’s ability to vanquish the worry-bubbles. He assured her she “didn’t have to let anything from her outside world into her insides. No matter what is happening on the outside, her insides are loved, good, strong, trusted and needed. “
But in the seconds that ticked away her sentence (s) her husband David passed.
I, so lost in my own dramas, completely missed the news. I can’t help but marvel at those of us living fragments of our life in the public eye. I can’t decide if it’s bravery or folly. Does it even matter…..