Artist, Creativity Facilitator. Opera Singer, Voice Teacher. I also create digital images for entrepreneurs. 📓🎨🎼📷
ATLien in Blacksburg, VA.
I think this is called "Speechless." It's about the disjointed relationship between my thoughts and feelings about what's going on in the world around me (especially for the past five or so years) and my thoughts and feelings about the wonderful ways in which my personal life has changed in the past three years and is continuing to change. A bit of cacophony there.
18/100 | #100daysofnattyswords#the100dayproject#poetry#moleskine#vscocam
It's taken me a very long time to get to where I am quite comfortable in my own skin. To be honest, coming to a place where I truly love myself is a process that didn't even begin until I was in my mid to late thirties. I still fall into traps, but it takes me less time to wriggle free from them. The process has been work, and sometimes it's work that I don't feel like doing, believe it or not. Funny how we can become complacent and stay in a place that does not serve or benefit us at all, only because it's what's most familiar. But breaking out of that harmful familiarity and becoming who I'm supposed to be (or just realizing) pays out in dividends later, so I'll continue to do the work even when I'd rather not.
There are lots of times when I don't know where to start. I don't overthink it; I just put the ideas or pieces of ideas away and just go for a walk. Or sit and read. Or look at pictures. Or sit out on the deck and chill. All of that is part of the process too. #details
It's Good Friday. Thinking about all of the thousands of times over these many years of my life when I felt so utterly and profoundly alone, and how even in those all-too-familiar times, I was never really alone. Those few times when I came close to dying, and I didn't. Those many times when I thought the tears would never stop and the ensuing headaches and stomach aches would never abate, and yet. I felt that sweet heaviness. Not the heaviness of the world. The heaviness of inexplicable comfort. Heavy like a warm, plush blanket. And I wouldn't want to move from that spot. Ever. Feeling like arms were cradling me, holding me close. And I wouldn't want to move from that spot. Ever. I can never describe fully or eloquently or even convincingly the love of Jesus or my experience around it. All I can do is close my eyes and express gratitude, again. For this love. This deep love that I know, in my knower.