Lamps and lightbulbs

Transition, of course, this is what happens next. There are moments I’m really excited for this, and others where I want to freeze time. How does one switch has always fascinated me, no matter what it is you are switching between. There is much I can’t write on a public blog, but that’s usually when I paint. I think some of what I paint is what I can’t express in any other way, though sometimes it’s a necessary restatement. I’ve been through many waves of emotion post-Festival, and I think it’s still something I’m processing. So many things must remain unsaid, or at least at some level unsaid. Though my eyes for certain (and perhaps your eyes as well) can’t really hide what’s real. I have so much joy from what was, and so much hope for what will be. But underlying all of this is some level of a struggle that whatever the magnitude of the struggle is, wistfully one wonders why this needs to be. I don’t know why, of course some things are more difficult than others, but in this there is a value that is gained, which at least in some ways is a silver lining.

I’m looking at light bulbs and lamps and pictures friends send me that remind me to dream. It’s the only way to really live. You need to dream and not let go of the things that are in your heart to see. I believe in this. And I believe greater things will come. In the meantime, I remember the softness of the rain, dancing on the street and the freedom of just being.


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