I M Perfect lady

Tag: souls

  • Same Piece.

    Last night I viewed lots of different Art, and it seemed each Artist had a message or feeling of energy that came through the piece.

     

    The art piece said more about the artist than the art.

     

    It is like the art is an inner imprint of how the artist feels; a coded message from within.

     

    Some artists are so exact in realistic portrayals; their perfection is displayed as judgment or even a God like imitation, their gift is replicating, being able to mirror the landscapes.

     

    There was Art that made you stop and think, wondering about the message or dichotomy it presented…a confused thinker sorting out his thoughts, making you pause and wonder.

     

    Perhaps our attraction to Art equals the way we are attracted to certain people, and repelled away from others.

     

    Somehow I separated the Artist from the Art not really believing that the Art told the truth about the Artist’s life.  I believed you could paint a pretty picture while having a tortured soul.

     

    Yet you can tell a lot about a person in their Art, which is why I feel many are unable to do art, for they fear displaying their self.

     

    The same goes for writing 3 pages a day, the deeper unconscious fear keeps them safe behind the excuses of no time, nothing to write, I know me, done the work, am okay with who I am.

     

    It’s the voices of fear to be seen in public without the layers and layers of coverings… like a painting draped with cloth so the picture lies hidden underneath.

     

    To drop the cloth and stand exposed seems it would be fearful and it is actually the opposite, with nothing to hide, you have nothing to hide, and you are free to be.

     

    Perhaps the fear lies in not matching another painting nearby or being as colorful or as dramatic or as calm and serene. 

     

    Yet imagine a gallery  with walls and walls all displaying the exact same piece.

     

     

  • Until she can find her own.

    The hardest part of being a mom is when your child takes an exit that you didn’t see coming and they seem to disappear from the usual landscape and it leaves you separated.

    And I am not even sure what exit she took, where she is or what her intentions are, just that she has left the lane of what was and is now heading down a road that neither of us are familiar with.

    As I continue to travel down my regular road, off to the side is this other lane of unfamiliar nagging at me, this road from my view is full of potholes and hairpin curves with disappearing drop-offs and my daughter seems blind to all its hazards.

    I am not certain if she is at a wayside unsure or if she is going forward with a full head of steam.

    I am not even sure what is making me uneasier, her being on that road or not knowing if she is sitting down in wonder or going further into its complicated bends.

    Our voices have been silenced. But all that seems to be happening now is a silent movie, where the drama continues, but I can’t hear the words.

    The not knowing is far worse, I believe than knowing.

    In the knowing, I know and can deal.

    It is like her life has slipped from my view.

    This almost seems like the far end of a spectrum, one being you are doing too much in a child’s life, overtaking it and this is the complete opposite, where you are completely taken out.

    In the middle of the spectrum are two people who allow the other their lives, we share and explore and understand their individual journeys.

    I am wondering how to hook our roads back up, how to join them together in a way that honors and gives space, in a way that respects our differences, but allows us to trust each other.

    Is there a way two people can be together on two different roads?

    As women we have lots in common and I am sure it is harder when I have more experience and I have been her superior as her mother for all these years, but is there a bridge that we can stand upon and share our views?

    I will have to let go of my fears and my ‘know it all’ attitude and let her show me the landscape of her new world, I will have to be a visitor to a foreign land.

    It truly feels like two distinct worlds.

    Yet I believe and feel that I have traveled the world she is going into, so it isn’t that foreign to me, perhaps it is only new and exciting to her, she is the foreigner not I.

    What is so perplexing is that you never leave reality, this is an inward journey, you are traveling away from your essential self.

    Away from your morals, your values, your worth, your self esteem, your dreams, your passions, your soul. Into a world of secrets, lies and deceit…heading towards a self that is unfamiliar, foreign.

    It is the road to no you.

    You are being lured down this road by a friendly face that is the façade of negative energies, manipulating you with false promises and pretty lies.

    If she were to travel this road alone, He would be her only guide.

    What I want is to walk with the two of them and give the real story, like Paul Harvey’s ‘the rest of the story’.

    Yet he knows and perhaps she knows too, that I will be the story wrecker, I will unveil the pretty lies and unravel the promises and make them as they are empty.

    So what scares me the most is that my familiar voice will be drowned out by his, that she will tune me out and turn a deaf ear to my words and cling to his.

    Her life in its innocence doesn’t have a voice of her own.

    I am sure she feels the pull between him and I, both of us wanting her. And what I want the most is for her to have a separate voice from both of us, but I don’t feel she has one for her self as yet. I see her as a girl who confused and twisted and wants to have love and attention but it comes with such a price tag, her self worth.

    I can almost understand the twist between what he says and how she feels.

    His promise land is a secret place and it can’t reach the light of day.

    In order for her to travel down his road, she lies to me.

    What I want most is for the lies to stop.

    Lies to herself and lies to me, both are taking a toll on her.

    It is so telling to see what lies can do to your spirit, you can literally see her growing darker.

    The truth will set your Spirit free!

    The two roads I see in my minds eye is the road of lies and the road of truth. One road darkens and leads you away from self and the other will support and Lighten who you are.

    You wonder what makes some travel into the darkness and what makes others travel towards the Light. What decides this and can they make a U-Turn?

    I will do as any good mother or women who see another descending into the darkness will do. I will give her my voice until she can find her own.

  • Using Words.

    I went to my first night of the Writers on Location series held in the little white church on Finlandia’s campus.

    The topic this week was singer/songwriters. Eric Koskinen and Mike LaBeau entertained us and shared their experience about putting words and music together.

    How music is used to back up a word, how it can change the meaning of the word by how the music flows behind it, swirls around it and carries it away.

    They spoke of the Business of song writing, how you write for a hit record, for a catchy tune, to be the one that makes the money, and how sunshiny bright tunes sell better than the dark renderings of pain and sorrow.

    Seeing how there is a market for ‘lightness’ and how the more poignant journeys of the soul are of lesser value in the market place seemed sad to me.

    I came away knowing it would not be fun to write for an audience or for a buck, to have to force words of a certain flavor forward.

    They did sing their songs and you could hear their hearts and souls wind around the words and music, perhaps not a best seller, but songs with feelings and longings, words sharing with us who they are.

    Most singers today do not write their own songs, they are actually acting out what someone else has wrote; someone in a room with a few other folks, playing on instruments and tossing around words to frame up a song. The singer than gets the song and uses their voice, but the words are not from their soul, but a collaboration, bits and pieces strung together to make a story to be sung.

    Listening to all the different writers, authors, storytellers, songwriters, singers I see that we all use whatever avenue we are comfortable with to share our journeys. That we each have an outlet for expression, an Art form that we happen upon that is our vessel to express what is in our souls.

    Words are words and how we arrange them in ways that leave a trail for others to follow what we feel is the magic to writing.

    Perhaps it is getting in touch with feelings, digging down deep into the caverns of our soul’s journey, and then using the words to deliver their message by laying them out in a poem or a song, in a book or a blog that connects us together.

    It is the longing to be heard, to be understood, to know that we are not alone, that we are not the only ones who have suffered, known sorrow, lived through confusion and angst, to be carried away by overwhelming pain or bursting with joy or engulfed in love that leaves you breathless.

    Connecting souls on this journey called life, using words.