One of the hardest things about change is the way that colors that don’t fit the idea of potential land on the artwork obtusely composing a story one frame at a time.
Sometimes those forms resonate with the grief while in others, the lack of depth is the silent tribute to the doubt that has been a constant companion over the years.
And still more where the hues are dabbed on with an unsureness that they are enough to express what home really feels like in some moment.
Then there are soft and strong touches of the consistency of perceived flaws and scenery that darkens even in the light.
As well as outlined pieces that were begun but ended up feeling unimportant or perhaps took shape on a day where hope waned, so they remain incomplete.
There are components whose bold pigments are charged by fear and anger that distract from the blues that celebrate the beauty of the sky from start to finish.
And greenery that display the very thoughts of uncomfortable things that quickly cover a garden with their need for solutions, changing the course of desired blooms more often than not.
And the shadows showing the influence of the love/hate storytelling that personal experiences have upon dreams, dimming the value of one try and one smile at a time.
And of course, there are the fluctuations in decisions made from the varying choices woken up with on each traversed line of stillness and chaos.
The body of the negatives complicates the view of colors and the role that each play in bringing to life real feelings that we can’t always find the words to express.
We are not broken simply because their existence dances across our pages, but by residing in our homes, we have the opportunity to examine closely every form that has been shaping the realities that we have been hoping to get away from.
When color watching, a sense of well-being isn’t just in the frames of happiness but rather in the wholeness of our being we the colors in any and all given situations.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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