(no subject)
There are those times when the wound feels like it will never heal, and then, while the blood is still warm and dripping the skin knits itself together after your fingertips grace the hem of his robe in an act of faith. It's that sudden feeling of wholeness after feeling so broken and incomplete and it is as though life has been breathed into your dead and dusty collapsed lungs.
What has healed my broken heart?
Reading an old New York Times article about Diane Arbus. After watching Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus with Nicole last night, my inner journalist would not be satisfied with more investigation. And in reading those words about the famed photographer it was like the creative spark was rekindled after being dead for so many months.
To be completely truthful, I feel like I haven't been myself in years. I know that this is not the case, I have never stopped being me, but I haven't felt like myself, I haven't felt that incredible burst of lively sunshine that is Miss Stephanie Jean in a very long time.
It stopped when the creativity stopped. There was a time when it seems like I was never not writing, be it on the computer, typing away at the keyboard, or scribbling on the brown bag book covers or scrawling on pieces of notebook paper. In high school I was writing, always writing, and truth be told that stopped a long time ago.
There was also the time when my camera was an appendage, it was my heart and my eyes all rolled into one, it never left my side. I would lay on the ground, contorting my body, just seeing, really seeing until I found something that I wanted others to see.
I've been able to reconnect with my artsy side in other ways, through the medium of creating jewelry and this semester through scrap booking. I don't particularly think of myself as an artist, but I know that deep within my being that is part of who I am. I love to be creating in some form, making something beautiful. I love to use my fingers, stretching and weaving those muscles as I strive to create.
I think it's time that I get back to writing. And I think it's time that I actually learn how to develop my own film. Granted I have no idea how I will find the resources to process my own film, but it is the desire of my heart to close myself in the dark room and as I carefully work to reveal my visions, to see my images form on those pieces of paper as they develop.
The return of the princess.
What has healed my broken heart?
Reading an old New York Times article about Diane Arbus. After watching Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus with Nicole last night, my inner journalist would not be satisfied with more investigation. And in reading those words about the famed photographer it was like the creative spark was rekindled after being dead for so many months.
To be completely truthful, I feel like I haven't been myself in years. I know that this is not the case, I have never stopped being me, but I haven't felt like myself, I haven't felt that incredible burst of lively sunshine that is Miss Stephanie Jean in a very long time.
It stopped when the creativity stopped. There was a time when it seems like I was never not writing, be it on the computer, typing away at the keyboard, or scribbling on the brown bag book covers or scrawling on pieces of notebook paper. In high school I was writing, always writing, and truth be told that stopped a long time ago.
There was also the time when my camera was an appendage, it was my heart and my eyes all rolled into one, it never left my side. I would lay on the ground, contorting my body, just seeing, really seeing until I found something that I wanted others to see.
I've been able to reconnect with my artsy side in other ways, through the medium of creating jewelry and this semester through scrap booking. I don't particularly think of myself as an artist, but I know that deep within my being that is part of who I am. I love to be creating in some form, making something beautiful. I love to use my fingers, stretching and weaving those muscles as I strive to create.
I think it's time that I get back to writing. And I think it's time that I actually learn how to develop my own film. Granted I have no idea how I will find the resources to process my own film, but it is the desire of my heart to close myself in the dark room and as I carefully work to reveal my visions, to see my images form on those pieces of paper as they develop.
The return of the princess.