These are some of my rambling on what it’s like to complete an art piece that the artist is proud of. Thank you so much for reading this series on the progression of this project — it is now completed! How magical?
Basically, it’s a verbal soup consisting of partial answers to “What does beauty in the eye of the beholder mean?”
It also is a reflection of what it means to be happy. What does it mean to find joy after wondering in the desert of what some may call mental illness? What does it mean to recover?
Well, i changed everything about my life and it’s still changing. The sick person was an entirely different entities that shared my DNA; that person was just trapped in an illusion.
If you’ve been a reader for a little while; you know that I’ve unpacked a lot of gore on this blog about my life. With that channel; I also found a lot of healing.
I found myself. I found who I was suppose to be. So, the symptom shut off. That thing I called depression packed up it’s bags and left. The shame and guilt quit. And I was left with myself to build. Still, some horrible habits existed. I am not “perfect” or “cured.” It’s an entirely different concept or model — I was freed from an illusion.
That freedom felt as equally as dangerous as exhilarating. I finally had that freedom I craved to say whatever the fuck I wanted — now what?
Joy comes after the blood and gore,
And now I give my gratitude for the pain.
Because the spiritual buffers shaped me,
Through every obstacle I faced.
I found out the wounds were but superficial. I found myself unharmed, when I dug down to the core.
It feels so good to be completed. I breathe a little different when I am looking in its direction.
What a work of art!
That’s how it feels to express; I am not asking you to tell me. I am saying, I think this shit is beautiful and it has little to do with paint brushes and colour. The medium is not the point; look at the range of expression on this piece.
I am proud of myself.
I feel joy in myself.
I feel happy.
And I thought I forgot how to feel:
“it used to feel good to live”
I thought when times were bad.
And aren’t those words a bit subjective?
In those “bad” times I had some of the most joy come from the consciousness inside my finger tips. Why the negative label then? What was good anyways? I guess it’s when I feel joy and peace. This is my experience when writing — most of the time. And even when it’s gruelling and nauseating; I feel the rewards in the emotional puke, so it’s all for the best.
And that’s how I am SUPPOSE to feel as a human. Not chasing money or clout — it’s about the art. It’s about the channel of expression that holds the dark waters of my soul.
Being bad never felt so good; I guess.
When I look at these pieces that I have crafted from my own two hands — It causes something inside of me to flutter. Is this why they relate it to birth? The act of creation comes from deep inside, when it releases it causes pure bliss.
I feel that.
It took part of my pain away — and it now it on paper. How is this not emotional surgery? It feels like looking I am looking at a painting made of real blood, sweat and tears. This is just what I happened to produce after all those years, because I just wanted to show you all the colours the whole world is missing!
Here, this painting is my present to you. It’s the only genuine thing I can give in this world.
This thing has been inside of me until now and damn. It feels good to get it out. I feel lighter. I feel happier understanding how to rid myself of internal pain — by painting.
I can’t wait till I hang you in the proper place in my house. And when I do I’ll remember how heavy was this for me to carry around before.
And how I feel lighter now that I found joy.