It Matters

Its been a long time since I sat down and faced the keyboard.  While I had many ideas to exploit, it comes down to does it matter?  I am not sure, all I know is that the need to acknowledge the inner side that has been buried underneath by the demands of life.  It is like I am  screaming from the inside begging to be fed something, something that I feel I cannot provide.  While I am an active reader of many and wonderful blogs, I cannot help but be somewhat envious of them.  While their writings are exceptional, I have come to realize that the bloggers are doing something that they love.  While I am trapped fighting to develop what I know is inside of me against the negative naysayers that quite often tell me that I am wasting my time.  I just know that it is something that quiets my mind, it provides a peace from the disappointments, expectations, and pending obligations and provides me a space of freedom of where I can be me.  I prefer sketching to writing because I enjoy the creation of something that I imagined.  While exploring what can be, I find that I become relaxed and by doing that I become rejuvenated and able to function in my many roles.   The need for me to find such a time to release my frustrations or just to recenter has grown because of the new responsibility of being accepted into Nurse Practitioner school.  On one side I never thought this is were my road would take me.  The amount of pressure to succeed is daunting at best.  While I struggle to keep from hyperventilating at times, I know this has to work because of who depends on me to do this.  The amount of pressure I feel is hard to bare at times.  I have also been accepted into the highest Honor Society for Nursing.  I went to my induction and waited in line to receive my accepting certificate.  I looked into the audience and realized how big this actually was and part of me was in denial that I was in line to receive the honor.  As I stood there I couldn’t help but realize that I was proud, I worked hard, I am a good nurse and have the potential to rise higher.  Yet, the creative side felt betrayed.  As they called my name, I walked on to the stage, but with each step I felt the creative artist die a little. Have I chosen my path in life?  Have I given up of becoming an artist? The funny thing is even as I ask that question now, the inside of my head screams a resounding NO! So how do I find balance?  The answer was staring me in the face.  As I was reading through my horrendously boring assignment in epidemiology I found my self doodling.  I stopped and found a spark of hope that maybe just maybe I might combine the two.  While reading I discovered that my learning went higher when I drew the connections out.  I gave myself permission to explore concepts through art.  Yeah its not the art that I love to create, but it is still art.  So while I walk down this new path that honestly scares the hell out of me, I find comfort in keeping my little sketch pad close by. 

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.”

Wisdom of Confucius

 

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A Little Magic

Have you ever been lost in something such as writing, painting, or other hobbies that you forget about time itself.  In my moments late at night, I was simply enjoying the music pumping through my iPod while engaging the blank piece of paper.  I was free of real life worries or pending issues, it was just  my pencils and I.  The exploration of what can happen always excites me when layout the ground work for an imagine.  Finding a reference for poses is always quite the challenge due to the short list of people who would pose for me so I am left from studying forms from pictures.  It is how I study art.  I appreciate the dances of lines, the subtle touch of shading to bring out the form.  To me its like magic.  Learning to see angles from the positive and negative spaces takes time but allows me to see the simplicity of shapes that come together to form a more complex image.   To me its the dance of lines.  To be the one composing such a dance brings a satisfaction and self worth that I cannot describe.  Its like seeing something about yourself that is pure in away, that sparks something inside your soul that brings about a happiness and peace that can only be found when you accept something that is true about yourself.   When I draw its like a spiritual encounter, the inner voice quiets down and you begin to see in a perspective without judgement.  It is a world that most are uninvited until the finished product is revealed.  But what most don’t know is that it is a true labor of love, the experience of creating is where the magic happens.  The self voyage of discovery.   I stayed up until 2 am working on this one.  It is not finished by any means but I feel the need to post.  After all this little space (blog) is my digital sketch book.  

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The Sand Dollar

Shell

Sometimes we find ourselves fighting against the tide of life.  The more we struggle the further off course we become.  Everyone has their own path to follow and with that hidden and perhaps foreseeable obstacles arise to shake us from this incredible journey that we have been gifted to experience.  For me, I have had my share of life’s sucker punches.  Believing that I am exempted from life’s irony and hand of fate would not only be my demise but I really wouldn’t be living in reality.  The thing is, bad things happen.  That is it.  Most of the time there is no explanation to the why’s and how’s… it just happened.  Looking at more of my own experiences I can only learn and reapply the new lessons and try for a different result.   It’s like life’s rear view window, you can look back and see where you have been, but the main attention is looking in front of you.   With all the ugliness that has happened lately, it’s hard to see what lies ahead.  For me, it’s simple…keep it simple.   When I work at night on the floor at the hospital, I see some serious situations.  While things may go crazy, and on the floors they do, often there is a single moment where I am stopped and force to be alive due to whatever force is pulling me at that moment.  Sound weird?   Maybe.  It usually comes when I am being pulled in several directions, it is when I sense in my patient that need to be touch by the human spirit, call it kindness or just validation of their pain, I find I stop in the middle of the whirlwind of chaos and see the person that is restrained by sickness.  A single touch followed by three words, “I am here.”  is sometimes all that needs to be said.  I will never forget a patient of mine fighting against cancer and all I did was just simply sit on her bed and say those three little words, I knew I was where I was supposed to be because everything felt right.  I fit into this world somewhere.  She hugged me while she cried, and I just offered what I could.   In her battle against the tide of life she wasn’t alone.  Just like a sand dollar, white and beautiful in design but fragile by nature, we can find strength in numbers if we allow ourselves the opportunity.

It’s Been Too Long

It’s been too long since I have come and played.  I find it curious that when I start something that feeds the unquenchable desire to create and explore different mediums life hands me situations that take me away from what I need to do.  I finally am to the place where I need to breath, to exhale, and reconnect with old and new friends.  I need the support that I discovered here in the secret place of the wide and vast internet.   For those of you who do not know me, it has been very difficult for me in the last few years.  To recap, I recently lost a loved one to cancer.  It was sudden and so unexpected.  He was my father in law.  Now many people don’t really have good relationship with their in laws and I don’t, except for him.  He over time became my friend.  He supported me through nursing school and I worked on the floor where he admitted patients.  I miss the times we would sit and talk before going home to what I call an unhappy situation.  It seemed he was happier at work then home.  When he was diagnosed with cancer, I had found out I was pregnant.  The happiness I felt for the pregnancy was taken over by cancer.  As the months came, he was the patient on my floor.  I watched him slowly waste away, the man was still there but the body was shutting down.  I remember talking to him not knowing if he could hear me at times.  While this was going on his wife and her family became that of the classic story of Cinderella.  They were the wicked step mother and the three sisters.  Cinderella had it lucky in the sense that she only had to deal with four ugly people and to top it off she got her happy ending.  The family prevented us from seeing him and we would wait for my shift to end and see him late at night when they had left.  My husband would sit there hold his hand and tell him we were here.  My heart ached because he was alone.  In July my father in law passed away.  That is when it really got bad.  My mother in law and her family unleashed unthinkable acts towards us, in ways that in the dead of night they left the state and transferred the body to a different cemetery without a word to us.  Followed by a phone call that was place the next day asking us why we didn’t show up.   The next blow came when we found out that my father in law left us an inheritance so that his grandkids would be taken care off.  It was in a will that suspiciously disappeared.  When asked her family laughed and told us that they have the money and we would never see a penny of it.  Now some of you might say get a lawyer, but the problem comes we do not have the money and they knew it.  The next hit came when we were in the process of moving, our house fell to faulty pipes and exploded while we were away causing our home to be unlivable.  Yes we had insurance, but for those of you who know about dealing with them understand that they fight you for every dime.  We lost our home.  So we moved to a new place and prayed for a new beginning.  Yet the mother in law and her family were not done with us yet.  They gave cars to each other as well as vacations, while we scramble to make ends meet.  I look back at it and I knew I would be stronger for it, but it angered me to know that my children are going without while their children drove around in my father in laws Porsche.  And the saga continues.  

My point is, never had there been a need a drive to unleash my creativity to process all of this.  So when I was introduced to word press I was hoping to reach out to people and build friendships to encourage me to keep pursuing what I love.   A place where it was “safe”.  Granted I don’t know many of you, but we all have one thing in common.  The love to create.  To see beauty in the darkness.  To unleash and expose our dreams and to reach out and build one another up.   Lately the world has been drenched in ugliness and it is getting harder to see the fragile beauty that is still there.  I choose to look for it, I need to see it, and want to create it.  I want to show my children that no matter what life throws at you, you have a choice on how you react to it.  I want to demonstrate strength in that we can overcome anything.   So I come back to word press to explore and cultivate my art and writing.   It’s been too long and I need to feed my creativity.

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