My life has woven itself together so complicatedly, that it's impossible to tell where one thread begins and another ends. I dissect it ever so haphazardly in my blog entries, like a movie where one suffers whiplash endlessly careening back and forth in time, or a tornado picking up bits and pieces of the landscape, whirling it in a blender, and throwing off the fragments to land where ever and whatever.
I look in the mirror at the results of the product as it stands at this moment, and that is all I seem to be able to do...just stare. I don't particularly think life has been good to me, nor do I think it has been out to get me...I don't particularly think anything about it at all. I'm trying to figure out just when did I breathe so much indifference into every pore of my being. When did I let go and actually give up on myself. I remember the dreams I had, although I don't keep them in my head and heart as dreams anymore.
I'm with someone who's philosophy at one time was to put everything on hold until life was exactly where they wanted it, then you get to live. I used to feel I was put on a shelf in the closet for safe keeping, and whenever everything was perfect, then I would be taken off the shelf to be enjoyed. I stayed on that shelf for years. The ability to create became harder, but my gardens, my living work of art, took shape then.
We went about it badly in the beginning, and whatever hardships that ensued were held against me, and the thing I loved so dearly became a thousand thorns in my side. I reached a point where I rebelled against it all, I think the word bitch was used to describe me more often than not, but I did manage to get myself off that shelf and back into life. I look at myself today realizing that, although I'm nowhere near a shelf, I don't know how to start my gears back into motion. I'm living in a watered down version of me, and I'm trying to search back to a time when I was truly just myself.
'What I want to do to inspire me'. Simple statement...hardest list I have ever tried to put even one answer to. I finally looked up inspire in the dictionary. Inspire is a word artist use. Business people use the word motivate, and most of the rest use the word encourage. I like to believe I'm an artist, I AM an artist, I'm an artist on vacation, I guess.
I'm thinking back to times I lived alone and solely took care of myself, for my inspiration. What inspires me? A home full of plants. I need my gardens inside as well as outside. Interaction with my pets...playtime...I don't ever play with my pets anymore. Refreshing breakfasts in the morning, cup of tea or coffee, all on my best china dishes. I want elegance. Music, any music, although I'm a classical lover by nature. I haven't listen to music in my home for years. I remember when I used to go to bed with an orchestra quietly lullabying me to sleep. Why did I ever give that up? I need more sleep...more sleep...I think I remember how that used to feel. I need to be life revved up, not death warmed over. I would like to say it's a done thing, but I'm out of practice, and it definitely will be an uphill struggle...at least my list's begun.
I could label this my year to inspire myself, and dare I say, perhaps through that inspire others; but I hate labels, they limit like crazy. If creativity excels without boundaries, then torch all labels to a pile of glowing embers, because my flight pattern is set to take me to the stars and beyond.