One day I met a girl |on Instagram|
Or rather, a woman
And she reminded me in just a few short words
Of all things I had become, and had been.
She told me that when people liked her art it made her day
And I remembered how we do not tell eachother enough
How needed we are
How beautiful your work is
How lovely, the colour of your hair and your dreams of the stars.
I looked then,
And saw in the mirror
The losses we carry
On the way to becoming ourselves
And how we rebirth it into colour + words and weave it into our messages | words + art + all of the things that we carry our heart in |
And I thought of you. I thought of the day I left photography, to write these words for you forever. I thought of the day I visited the stars and was told, you must decide, this way or that way, and you can make art for them or you can make your life your art, and so I made the choice and now I don’t carry a camera but what remains
Are the words that I
Paint.
For You.
And she paints art for me.
And yet we create
For nobody but
Our dancing self
Even when we think nobody cares
And that is the way of the artist
And the bones of these things we build upon
Civilisation or undoing of the soul
Until we remember
Who
We
Are.
And it is ok then to be the hummingbird
Scratching at the surface of new things
Along the way
and the hummingbird travels by following the signs we forgot
So some of us were put here to show one another the way. It always begins with
The rawness of a new and awkward hello
Yet somehow we always find one another in the stumbling,
I she and she me
(and sometimes he) and this is how together we lead one another
In the he|art of it all
So even in the midst of your greatest undoings you must know
Someone somewhere is looking and thinking about nothing less
than you
And the stars.
xo
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