Somewhere more solar

My art-brain continues to surprise me. This is my best attempt to capture this feeling I’m having, this beginning of some wheel.

I feel like finishing this ‘final’ draft of my novel (and sending it out) ties a bow on a phase of my art practice—a messy, traumatized bow, a knot of inner struggles I’ve been resistant to accept. A catalog of some person I fought to be, a package of knick knacks I’ve arranged into some meaningful order on the shelf of my…I hesitate to say heart, because it’s colloquial, simplistic, too easy to misunderstand—so, on the shelf of my wherever-courage-or-conviction-comes-from-in-a-person.

I see a new terrain, which will take me quite some time to satisfactarily put in words. It is somewhere more…solar. That’s the best word I have right now, and honestly, it feels accurate, complete, and descriptive to me.

Maybe that carries little meaning for ~ everyone else ~ …especially because this isn’t a disavowment of dark places, or struggle. If anything, it’s an accomplishment for knowing myself in such an intimate way. That’s an entire life’s work in some way, and I feel some sense of reaching satisfaction with that. Something’s been processed these past ten years, and I have a clear vision of where I want to go next.

An afterlife of some kind—one I get to experience here on Earth.