13 May There Are Wild Horses Running Through My Riverbed
I recently read an article titled, “Study Finds Genetic Link Between Creativity and Psychosis,” written by Josh L. Davis.
I couldn’t help but think about myself and the many other artists I know. I can see how we may appear insane as we seem to see the world through a different perspective. While someone may see just a beautiful sunset: a painter may see shadows, highlights and forms; pastels or shade variance. A photographer may see angles, lighting, and composition. A musician may see the sunset through a vibrato of sound or a musical score. Or the writer, such as me, may see dusk as a time when gargoyles and dragons come to life; twilight with a lover; an ember kiss. I may be insane, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Today, I woke with a lazy smile, giddy in my heart; a million butterflies ready to take flight. The sun was just starting to peak through the curtains and birds were already singing in harmony. I tried to still my excitement as I slipped quietly from bed, taking special care not to wake him from his slumber. He has been working hard and needs his rest. For now, I will try to quiet my restless soul.
He told me just last night that today he was taking me on an adventure. He promised it would be beautiful, serene, and would quiet my restless soul and open my imagination. Somehow he understands that I crave this; that my soul needs it. He understands my madness.
There are times where I feel stifled and my creativity feels blocked. For me, I find this happens when I have become too consumed with the mundane tasks of life. I start to feel trapped and caged; an eagle whose wings have been clipped. In these moments, I can feel the universe calling to me with a deep seduction and I can’t help but to succumb to its sweet caress and whispers. He often understands and recognizes what I need before I fully sense it myself. So, today, well today, he promised me an adventure.
We had to hike in through fields of wild flowers with lazy, cotton clouds masquerading as shift-shapers above. Humming birds and honeysuckle lined a babbling creek full of boulders and skipping stones. Finally, we made our way to an area where multiple waterfalls intersected; collided. Trout were jumping for their mid-day meal. I was in paradise; he did not disappoint. We were somewhere along Colfax HWY.
As I began making my way across the slick rocks, (some boulders so high that I had to slide across on my bum), I saw within the formation what appeared to be a cave. My third eye was opened, my breath stilled.
Looking behind me, there was an enchanted forest. I saw a gnome that stood so tall it eclipsed the light. Its expression was meant to look happy but to me it appeared almost sinister. I started to push open the door, which was, coincidentally, located in the hollow of the gnome’s mouth. As it groaned with heavy resistance, I pushed harder. Suddenly, before me was a floating lily pad and as a lotus flower unfolded, I heard a baby cry. Father Time and Mother Nature created an offspring…
I grabbed my journal and began to write. Cerebral tornadoes were swirling in my imagination. Laughing, I kissed him passionately. He knew exactly what I needed to open this vortex in my mind to another realm and dimension in time.
The older I become, the more important I find it is to have balance. I am a giver and often I find myself being pulled in so many directions: I am a confidant, a chef, a manager, a housekeeper, a therapist, a disciplinarian, a healer, a cheerleader, a coach – but there are times when I have to take time for myself to fully be whole and to be able to give breath to the other areas of my life. There are times when it feels almost selfish; but I make no apologies.
“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring…” ~Marilyn Monroe