it's raining today. a light drizzle across the sky, a light on gray - the kind where if I took a photo, the sky would appear as a lack of discernable color. that washed out grey with no contrast where clouds are indistinguishable from sky. white noise, blank space, a photographers burn.
i haven't written anything in a long time. while I've thought of doing so, I haven't felt like I have anything I wanted to say, or what i had to say was a bunch of white noise. like I feel now, writing just to write. am I saying anything?
a friend of mine posted this photo above, which I felt fit my mood. the bleh, a nothingness, a fuzzy non-competition. he came back and said to me, "this could be a fresh sheet of paper waiting to be written on, could be polar bears in a blizzard - at least I have air-conditioning, maybe it's a zen thing. It's not labor day yet."
so while i saw nothing, he saw possibility. the creative mind. versus my depressed mind. when I am depressed I see the lack of.. people who correct me but never talk to me. the invisibility. the nothingness. is it possible that people are like me, stuck in the nothingness? waiting for a kind word? waiting for inspiration?
i went out a few days back and was excited because the skies were like a painting. layer upon layer of striated clouds, shifting and reforming, with bits of light poking through and illuminating the sky.
i love color and light, the multifaceted swirling shades of gray. i love taking a photo and poking it into a painting, imagining the sky as a facsimile of emotion.
other people like the nothing. they want the white, maybe because they want to build their own picture, fill in their own emotion, their own story. or perhaps they are sensitive to all the input. the information is too much to process because there is too much already flooding their minds, or their hearts.
perhaps I am bright garish color when they want soft white. should I be gray? should I be a meditation upon which other people reflect? what if I'm neon orange and i just don't know it? the horror!
if the me that i am is the antithesis to who i want to become, is there time to change, to be the off white grey of a stormy day, waiting for the light to shine through me?