|Mixed media 8x8 wrapped canvas|
Journaling has helped me spend some time imagining. Daring myself to dance with myself and taking the muffs off my ears to hear what is planted in my heart. I'm really listening now, paying acute attention....What is that stirring in me? It's a low growl, or is it more like a muffled howl? Something is wanting to hunt, to find, to uncover, to excavate what is hidden, what is my own treasure map. I uncover silver coins now and then, but I know there are more, much more. But for the most part, it's a deep, broad place I must explore further with many rooms, deep crevices. It captures me in places. It's entices me deeper in. It's daunting. It's a thousand paintings away- minus some. Some days I can't get there fast enough and some days I just want to meander on the path and look around, and some days the fog covers my path, visionLESS. But it always lifts and leaves me standing there looking into the looking glass, wondering how far I will go this time before something calls me back from the exploring, the digging. The imagining....
If your everyday life seems poor, don't
blame it; blame yourself; admit to
yourself that you are not enough of a poet
to call forth its riches; because for the
creator there is no poverty and no poor
- Rainer Maria Rilke