This self portrait was sitting undedited for four months before I finally stumbled across some inspiration, inspiration that only seems to spark when I’m alone. Or comfortable, maybe comfortable is a better word to use. It’s funny really, to see the word comfortable pertaining to any part of me right now, or when my last burst of inspiration that floods this deep rushed in.
I thought things were falling apart, Mother Earth crumbling right below my every step — that was hardly the case at all though, all I was doing was lifting myself out of the world I let other people build around me, and putting myself back in MY world, with my dreams.
I stopped following my dreams because I was trying to force myself into love, but no matter how hard I tried, my will would disappear whenever thought I might be getting close enough to fall, and there were no feelings left inside of me to give to anything or anyone.
I’m still not fully back into my world, there is quite a bit of scar tissue to work through and I’m often overtaken with the wrong intent to love. Planning to be in love doesn’t work for me, I can’t speak for anyone else. I have to be sailing on my own path, pursuing my dreams, and let love fall onto me.
Never stop dreaming, anyone.