Change of seasons

I don’t want to make any more art about the things that have hurt me. Every piece I’m working on has some way tied into the experiences, people, stories, or places that have fucked me right up. Trying to make something beautiful & meaningful out of it to justify this feeling. Because I still believe it’s my responsibility to transform those thorns into a crown. It’s not. I don’t owe it to anyone. My sadness & pain are my own. Transforming them could be cathartic or it could be a way to keep me trapped in it. What would it look like to make art out of things that were already beautiful? Out of pieces of me that shine in the sunlight? What if I started with gold instead of straw? What could I weave then? I’m growing in a thousand ways that I don’t remember. I just want time to rest in the pieces of me that aren’t hurting. I feel like a fraud & a fake turning over a new leaf while these leaves are still green on the tree. Abandoning the project before transformation is complete. But I also recognize that I need to refuel. I’ve been joking about quitting to paint fruits & flowers. I think that might literally be what I do next. I’m taking a three month hiatus from all that is hard to only indulge the soft side of my art. Play music, play in film, play in paints & muck about. I have a few commitments that I will see through, but I’m shelving Dear Devotion for a time until after this sabbatical of gentleness. There are still a few more months left in this year of yin and I will indulge.

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