Sunday, April 11, 2010
My feet in boots, blue jeans on--I wear silver rings. For a moment, I feel like all of who I am, but it's too easy to lose that sense when you live among people who, like you, are not being all of who they are.
In boots, blue jeans and silver rings, I am suspended in a place where nothing need be done. I have long hair and green eyes, but I don't open my mouth, or build a house, or make something brilliant--I just hold my breath and I wait.
This work we do to be human, to carve out space, make art, find fulfillment and create meaning--it should be like a song. Effortless, melodic, rhythmic, and each day ending with a perfect cadence.
My boots, blue jeans and silver rings are expressions of the all of who I am, but when do I take the pieces of me, the notes and the chords, and write a song?
Maybe now is the time to stop waiting--for it, for that, for more. Maybe now is the time to make something brilliant, build a house just for me, then open my mouth and start singing.