Our lives don’t sound the way that they feel in our hearts and the light along our paths isn’t painted so that we can still see it in the moments where we don’t even want to talk to ourselves because of the doubt and sorrow that is surrounding us.
We are use to expressing our stories under the hues of the black that represents the darkness and the white that is the evidence of the brightness even though their flatness isn’t truly capable of communicating who we are unless we narrow our eyesight to with-hold the rest of our information.
The same can be said about the words that we use to manage our narratives in that its not the personal details that have been hidden in the atmosphere of each term but the value that we keep removing from ourselves because of what is all in along our lines.
It’s hard existing in the kind of art whose pages are able to display the scale of our defeat and yet it isn’t that those things visit us but how we have plagued ourselves with the reminders of the illustrations of them.
Just because we have been stuck in the cycle of familiar creations, it doesn’t mean that we can’t also make something stronger by taking notice of the contrast of the different layers that are significant to understanding our existence.
It’s called colors and a vocabulary so that we can mix and match our materials to fit the kind of artist that we feel like being each day and sometimes that creativity requires us to be seen adding light so that our stories reflect how our hearts have actually felt them.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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