We cannot be blooming all year around.
We must trust the heartache, the pain, the sublime beauty that is growth in this life.
I believe our creativity comes in moments
in ferocious winter storms and forces that no human can conquer
no matter how many stones they claim they are made from or how soft their heart may be.
When your creativity walks out on you in the early hours before the sun wakes and the streets are swallowed up by thick fog and the rain weighs heavy on the earth, sit in your silence.
Embrace your dormancy, embrace the deafening absence.
When your creativity washes over you, drowning you in all it’s momentary bliss close your eyes and swim in it.
Let it feed your soul. Be greedy with it.
Cradle the thunder in your arms.
Create with blood dripping down your forehead, create with doubt, with gratitude, with fear, with voice shaking and hands trembling like it is the first time you are touching someone your heart has ached for, for life times.
And when it comes time for creativity to pack it’s bags and hit the road again, grab a hold of it and give it one last kiss. For good measure.
The whole ‘all good things take time’ saying has some truth to it - and you must be determined to do something with your given time.
You have got to make something out of nothing, because in this bitter-sweet world all you have got is you.
Lately, I find myself reading more than writing, and I have been living in my moments more than photographing my moments, and I have been doing a whole lot of thinking about this damn wonderful life we are all living and I have been thinking about thinking and feeling too deeply.
I can only do what I can do, and I can only feel what I am feeling.
My creativity has hit the road, but I know he will be home soon, with some damn spectacular stories to share with me too.