Let me just preface this post a little bit....
I was doing some quite unintentional writing therapy. Or at least, I was writing to put out what I was feeling regarding a very different target subject. I very surprisingly found the "therapy", as I'm calling it, to work for a rather different reason. I shouldn't have been stumped, really,....because here I am on this blog, writing a little with each post (sometimes writing A LOT) and it has been incredibly helpful and personally encouraging in many ways (regardless of who reads it, if any one actually reads it).
As I finished writing, re-read what I wrote, I had the idea to use that scrap material to create a blog post. Buuuuuuut, being that it is therapy, that would mean exposing the ugly things. I editted a bit and wondered how much to expose....considering my blog is all about the little HAPPY things. I guess happy is just implied. But I realized the power of implication. It doesn't have to be the happy little things that encourage you or get you through. It could be a whole, new, undiscovered adjective instead. And that's what this little thing was today.
Bear with me as I backtrack just a bit more before the big reveal of this little thing.
I was messaging my [really cool, super awesome, best one in the whole wide world] Mom today about how to respond to another message I had received a while ago which I finally felt ready to respond to now. The problem was that there just aren’t words. I wish I could capture exactly how I feel my life has been completely changed….but words are not to be found. Maybe I could find it in a picture. A still shot.
As I was doing this writing therapy, I realized that I indeed had found it.
I bought a painting in the Agora 2 days ago. I’ve bought canvas paintings from every country I have gone to but this one in the Agora caught my eye. It was just black, white, and red, and it was made out of metal and wood instead of canvas. It’s the white silhouette of a girl against a black and red backdrop. I bought it just because I felt so connected to it. I mean, it’s just matter. It’s just a rectangle piece of what a street vendor in a an ancient marketplace can call art. But I bought it as if it was already mine. As if it was a piece of me that I dropped along the road and just found once again. And this picture, I thought at first, perfectly captures all that words can’t put together. But then, thinking about the events of that sunny day in October, I realized that it was more than just the beginning emotions during this trip in Greece. It was the emotions of the whole year. It was the harsh, reckless wails. It was the out of body drowning. It was the anger and disbelief. It was the confusion. It was the physical tearing apart. It was, ultimately, the beauty in the breakdown.
And this painting isn't exactly a HAPPY little thing, in relation to all the little things in this blog. It's more like a marvel. Like a fascination or intriguing subject. Like something to capture your attention, making you reflect in a non-destructive way. It's still positive, yet retaining all it's negative affects. Because healing can't happen without pain being there first.
That's the little thing. This painting and all that I've typed.
I was doing some quite unintentional writing therapy. Or at least, I was writing to put out what I was feeling regarding a very different target subject. I very surprisingly found the "therapy", as I'm calling it, to work for a rather different reason. I shouldn't have been stumped, really,....because here I am on this blog, writing a little with each post (sometimes writing A LOT) and it has been incredibly helpful and personally encouraging in many ways (regardless of who reads it, if any one actually reads it).
As I finished writing, re-read what I wrote, I had the idea to use that scrap material to create a blog post. Buuuuuuut, being that it is therapy, that would mean exposing the ugly things. I editted a bit and wondered how much to expose....considering my blog is all about the little HAPPY things. I guess happy is just implied. But I realized the power of implication. It doesn't have to be the happy little things that encourage you or get you through. It could be a whole, new, undiscovered adjective instead. And that's what this little thing was today.
Bear with me as I backtrack just a bit more before the big reveal of this little thing.
I was messaging my [really cool, super awesome, best one in the whole wide world] Mom today about how to respond to another message I had received a while ago which I finally felt ready to respond to now. The problem was that there just aren’t words. I wish I could capture exactly how I feel my life has been completely changed….but words are not to be found. Maybe I could find it in a picture. A still shot.
As I was doing this writing therapy, I realized that I indeed had found it.
I bought a painting in the Agora 2 days ago. I’ve bought canvas paintings from every country I have gone to but this one in the Agora caught my eye. It was just black, white, and red, and it was made out of metal and wood instead of canvas. It’s the white silhouette of a girl against a black and red backdrop. I bought it just because I felt so connected to it. I mean, it’s just matter. It’s just a rectangle piece of what a street vendor in a an ancient marketplace can call art. But I bought it as if it was already mine. As if it was a piece of me that I dropped along the road and just found once again. And this picture, I thought at first, perfectly captures all that words can’t put together. But then, thinking about the events of that sunny day in October, I realized that it was more than just the beginning emotions during this trip in Greece. It was the emotions of the whole year. It was the harsh, reckless wails. It was the out of body drowning. It was the anger and disbelief. It was the confusion. It was the physical tearing apart. It was, ultimately, the beauty in the breakdown.
And this painting isn't exactly a HAPPY little thing, in relation to all the little things in this blog. It's more like a marvel. Like a fascination or intriguing subject. Like something to capture your attention, making you reflect in a non-destructive way. It's still positive, yet retaining all it's negative affects. Because healing can't happen without pain being there first.
That's the little thing. This painting and all that I've typed.
Beautiful.
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