This week I really struggled finding inspiration for photographs. I was asked to contribute to a couple forums regarding my inspiration and creative process. It’s a difficult task. After hours of writing and rewriting, I couldn’t quite reset. I had so much emotion, so I wrote instead. The creative life can be messy, most people try to gloss over tough times, but I have always put them to good use. Whether it’s expression in a photograph, writing, or serving others to get my mind off myself. Most of the time, I’m too afraid to share. But there’s beauty in life’s bumps and bruises- no one really gets by without them. I thought sharing art was hard… sharing my thoughts have been the most difficult thing I have had to do. But, to live boldly and audaciously requires being in. All in.
Life is a seesaw, the blade of balance never quite right.
Fear of failing, suffocating all her might.
Taking refuge in corners, tucked far away,
telling others to go, but secretly wishing they would stay.
Hiding hurts and failures, stories never told,
hoping the pain would dissipate, rather than unfold.
Her voice and self crushed by the words and actions of others,
no shoulder to cry on, not even her mother’s.
There’s safety in seclusion
no one has a say.
Hope and dreams can flourish
or slowly drift away.
Broken promises and never quite belonging,
scarring her soul, carving an empty longing.
She filled it with “stuff” and temporary pleasures,
each time less fulfilling, void beyond measure.
She fixed her sight on creating art,
telling her story, just not from the start.
Picking up the pieces, crafting a new beginning,
this is life, her way of winning.