About to do about five different things and my attention was caught by fluttering outside the window, where previously I had a huge piece of cardboard that serves as a dream board in the process of its creation.
My impulsive buying spree over the summer brought home this bird house as well as a bird bath that was broken before I bought it, so I got it for $20 and glued it back together, because everyone who knows me knows how I love the birds. I only have three bird tattoos as well as one that reads Nevermore with a black feather...
This is the first time I have seen the birds on and inside of it, and I don't know why but between the music I have on and the morning conversation with my mother, who swears she hasn't seen her son in awhile (less than three days ago they were out together) and these birds, I almost cry but then I stop because I have to work tonight and I hate going to work with my sensitive eyes even more red than usual.
This was the one thing that I wanted to share to push forward on what I have been working on since February to build into a wondrous avenue to realign my own thoughts of creativity and push past the self-destructive tendencies that I am prone to engaging in.
The more time that goes by, the more that I see and hear my mother deteriorating, the more I need to observe how important installing the thoughts of the highest possible potential as often as possible has become to me.
I struggle right now, and I am sure the tears will leak out no matter how blessed I am, how fortunate this day is, and how faithful I can be in a time where I hear the lady who has been my most consistent human contact and support tells me that it is important to pray...
It is important.
It is not for nothing.
It is something that is sacred inside, that you can build over time and it is not to be argued over, or forced, or fashioned into what you think it should be for anyone else but yourself.
These creations are made up of all of that which has brought me here to this page. These paintings and drawings and poems...they have come from that deep corridor where those tears are also born. Where the feeling of gratitude for those three birds meeting on that bird house with a heart shaped entrance comes from.
My dream for these receptacles of papers and scraps and stones, feathers, leaves, acorns, coins, keys... Whatever makes your soul happy, this was and is my dream for them. To make sure that these little things were not overlooked and taken for granted.
Because in the end, all these things stay alone, behind. But the feelings...those corridors go on forever.
The feelings that provoked the collections of "things".
...those are not for nothing.