Be Honest

As I return to the world of blogging, I have asked myself ‘why’? Why write anymore? Stories happen and our lives go on, people post pictures of smiling faces. For so many years I wrote about my inner struggles that stood along the backdrop of building a fashion dream. A formula of hopefulness beyond the extreme. Though something now stops me to think, what impact am I creating through this writing? It was never about showing off or promoting a dream, it was about never giving up all those times I wanted to. Why does it matter? People are so busy and not a moment to care. What matters? The Truth.

Could I instead of becoming some sort of dream, just go off and try and explore the world that is local. In my community of Baltimore? My blog has been about breaking out branching out pushing the limits and going the extreme. Could the story shift where I see myself and the beauty that simplicity lives? Walking down streets I knew as a kid and playing make believe with grown up friends. Can we not together cultivate our own dreams and share the journey through images and words. I have been fighting for all my life. What if I were to stop for a while and enjoy the walk? Can progress be made along the middle grey?

What if I were to back track and be a real writer? Take it seriously rather than an off set side sport. What if I took a stab at those things I deemed just for fun and made them the life that I live? All these, ‘what ifs’ shall be the future of this work. The intention remains the same to inspire readers to dream. To step out of those spaces that fear lives and bring hope a new breath. To know that it is ok to be just as you are and to grow and glow in the midst of the storm. I wish that your heart smiles all day long and when it forgets remember to wink a hello.

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I don’t make time, or at least I haven’t. I do a calculation of the value added for most experiences and forget the most important. Especially those pertaining to myself. After a work dinner on a warm night, I drove to the side of town where there is a sandy shore. Of course the Sandlot was closed, but the night and the moon waited to walk with me.

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I am always watching the shadows afraid of what might happen, in a constant fear that I might miss something. Cautious and fearful is the life I have lead for the past 2-years. In this state love cannot live, so then I decided to stop chasing my shadow and allow her to become whatever she wants to be.

I am making an application for an Artist in Residence living situation that scares and excites me in the same fold. I still struggling with the concept of ‘artist’ for many reasons mostly because I feel like a small buttercup shouting to the mature sunflowers, ‘hey guys can I play’. Despite my reservations I am applying and I hope with all my heart that the 1 spot they have waiting sits for me. 

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I rarely make time for friends. It is an embarrassing truth, that I prioritize projects, work and everything else. I am rehabilitating the mind and heart to return to those things that I once loved but forgot: family, friends, fun and myself. My body and mind are tired these days, but maybe that is not a bad thing. Perhaps that is the beginning of growth through rest and recharging the spirit to return. 

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