(Click ‘play’ to hear me read this post)
Here is some art I made. I have never been more free. And you think I mean free of the pain but I don’t. What I mean is that I am free of talent and intellect. I am free of obsession, lack, scarcity, and cooperation.
I’m free of justifications, of manifestations, of the madness of explanations. Distillation. A world so drunk it blacks out on the naked body of itself.
I am free of the commodities of condition, progress, and success. The job isn’t to eliminate pain, it’s to metabolize it. The work isn’t the work and the reward is not the reward. Forget the words. The sunlight falls through the trees and none of the rest of it matters to anyone, least of all the poets, the painters, the mystics. It’s been so long since I have been misunderstood. I missed it.
I grope for nothing, reach for nothing, say nothing. Wait on nothing. Survive with nothing, thrive with nothing. Emptiness is fullness and fullness is the greatest disillusion. I know I shouldn’t write like this, like I know anything, but mostly it’s just me and God and the way the shadows swell up over the walls in the afternoon. Laughter alone in empty space. Joy that creeps up from the base of my spine. And visions, visions, visions.
Get out beyond the thing you think you are. It isn’t big enough to help you anymore. Let go of the best thing you’ve ever done. Let go of what you’re doing now. Breathe in and out. Listen and do not speak. Keep going until everything you thought you were burns off, burns up, sets fire to the hills, skies, trails, and bones of you.
God it has been so fucking long since I wrote from my most internal space, from so deep inside that I know it’s from somewhere else. I always felt otherworldly, and rejected, shamed, and dismissed for it. Love as I understood it got snuffed out pretty quickly in my youth. I’m able to touch back there now, and be a safe guide to my younger bits to find their way home to me as a grown woman.
What was missing then I have now: dignity.
You would be shocked to know how many knock-down-drag-out-fights it takes to get to the peace. You would be surprised how many times you would rather chew out your own teeth instead of making love with the fire in your heart.
I hope that you aren’t like anyone else. I hope you never try to be. That’s where I broke apart.
I made some art which is to say without saying it:
Maybe I’m finally free of the breaking.
x
Yes!!! Sweet freedom from the striving to be free. Being the freedom. Nothing to do anymore. The brush and the canvas. Colors manifest. Strings. Vibrations move the brush. The Universe speaks it’s symbols.
I get it friend!!! 🙏