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redesign

A sneak peek at my new banner. 

What do you think?

Burnt to a crisp

It is amazing how when you reach a low point you are able to have some clarity and see where you wanted to go. Well, I was laying on the seabed and right there in front of me I found a box full of old memories. It was a box full of words, papers, pens, books, paint brushes, pencils, erasers. It was a box full of my adolescent dreams of being a writer and artist. I am back on my original path. I still seem to have one firm foot on the soft seabed. And every now and then my foot seems to sink a bit deeper. However, my other foot is lifted in the air, pointing to the surface as a promise to return to the fresh sea air that will once again regenerate my soul. 

So I have, as usual, returned to the empty page and filled it with scratches and scribbles and doodles. 

Some silly

Some hopeful

Some for the moment.

It is a wonder how much it helps to draw and paint, especially with watercolors. 

on my mind

As I was wandering around, looking at colorful illustratuins, and pictures I kept on clicking and searching for houses and trees. So I sat down and began doodling and out appeared our little crooked house that even though it is small and unfinished it has grown on me. It has changed my world. It stands out from the others because it is mine. My own place on this earth that I can do what I want with it and in it. I haven't had that until now. When I was a child I had to obey my grandparents rules, then the dorm rules, then the landlor's rules. It is very limiting to not be able to express who you are.  

As I continued down the page the mountain turned into a head. Two closed eyes pondered about the importance of a place of truth. I am myself here. I can sing, dance, draw and put up on the walls withouth being judged. I am finally free and for someone that has always been shy about their abilities it is wonderful to finally be able to lay myself out in the light without having to hide it in bags or whispers. 

 

breathe in, breathe out, and release

I feel blocked. I have in a while. Every time I have the urge to create something I sit down, prepare my self, loosen my hands, and then something inside me stops me. I can feel the thought, urge,idea, craving fighting back, pushing it´s self against the wall, but it remains trapped. So I ask why do I block myself from being myself? How can I unblock it? Release it? I used to be a dreamer, running around a vast city imagening games, stories. I wanted to cover the streets with art and magic. I would create without a care. Speak without fear, and now I have lost that part of me. The part of me that promised her 5th grade teacher she would never grow up.

However, I feel it inside, floating around the dull me screaming, begging to be free. I feel troubled, so troubled that I cannot seem to feel comfortable with being my own me and stop being this socially accepted me. This Christine is polite, quiet, friendly, reserved, introvertive, a wall flower. But the real me, the me that comes out when no one is looking,  is one that talks to herself, dances as if she were on a stage, believes in more than 4 dimesions, questions reality, and always wants to retreat to her imaginary world of color, rhythm, and beauty.

As my son drew with passion I wondered how to retrieve my own. It is a long jurney...I only hope that this luster that is burried deep within the dried soil that is my being can still be found.

I begin to dig, and with each mouthful of dirt sorrows and pains and forgotten dreads are unearthed. Is it a journey to self destruction or a voyage to my own Beatrice, the Wooni that has a faint pulse...
With the beasts guiding me we shall see whatelse the earth fosters...