So I’m writing a book, a second memoir of sorts. It’s been an interesting process and also emotionally exhausting. I’ve rediscovered and also uncovered new things about life, faith, and pressing in to life. None of the writing has been easy, but I think it has been worth it to dig in to the whole truth hidden behind doors. Of course, writing memoir can take a lot of a person. Be gentle with yourself. Sometimes you come to the page blank. Words won’t come. You’re staring at a blank screen. Nothing is making sense. I had that moment the other day. Continue reading Still You Are Here
I create art with my words. It’s what I enjoy doing. And while I love the process of creating and writing, I find myself at the corner of there’s-so-much-more-I-could-do and solitude’s whispers.
There is a call for solace and stepping back. Maybe you’ve been hearing it too.
I think good art often requires a break – space to inhale deep and exhale slow. We were not made for constant go-go-go. We were made for rest too. The artist’s hands may repose, but that doesn’t mean the creating is over. It is simply the acknowledgement that more will come if I choose to press in to the soul’s desire for respite. I like that kind of journey.
My painting tools are stocked away in storage, so what do I have to make my art? My cell phone camera. Not the best tool, but it’ll do.
Today’s post is all about solitary. It is about Solace, Silence, and Solitude.
I love the art of silence. It is that stillness that settles over your soul and sinks deep into the crevices of your heart. Call it peace. Call it tranquility. Call it grace. Whatever you call it, it is an art that satisfies.
Of looking into another’s lane. Bad move. I lost my footing. Lost my ground. Got turned around. I made the mistake – one so very fatal – comparison. It can strike at any time while on the journey to your dream. Perhaps that’s what need to happen to us sometimes to help us catch hold of our God and His vision for us – the one we keep thinking is too big to pursue. But, it is worth it. I’m preaching to the choir here because I find myself in unchartered territories. Nothing here is making any near or remote kind of sense. It is out of the galaxy of my mind. Here, there, and everywhere are dreams bursting and making difference. And here I am…silent. Wondering, waiting, talking myself down from the ledge of success. The dream is bigger than me. The burgeoning reality of the dream is frightful. How can it be pursued if I know not its direction? Is this that moment to take it and make it fly? Is this the time to risk?