[So It Goes]

Haven't posted in a while, things have become complicated and I don't understand myself too well right now. This isn’t really to address anything specific, just wondering if people can relate. Might be triggering to those who are sensitive to these subjects.

I view the world through weary eyes that used to see so much beauty. Beauty is life, love, pain, the universal nature of our struggles; the essence of what we are. The only thing that reminds me of my past, my expressive nature, is to feel and record those feelings, to work through them somehow. I can’t express those feelings in the same way as my youth. I used to only need a pencil and paper and my inner vision to bring out the beauty in all I saw. That was taken from me. All I feel when I pick up a pencil is the scars, the phantom limbs of a former artist’s soul, the pain from people I once loved attempting to rob me of the part of myself I held most dear because their fragile worldview couldn’t handle something, anything being more important than them.

Every time I hold a pencil, a pen, a brush, I feel that hammer crash down on my wrist. I feel what was taken from me. I recovered physically but I have never been able to express the same way since, like the injury sealed off my abilities not from my physical being, but within my mind. The physical pain was nothing compared to how it scarred my thoughts, instantly taught that I had to kill that part of myself in order to be less vulnerable, to survive. Pouring my heart into paper or canvas is impossible when those bits of me only represented an illogical failure in someone else’s eyes.

But the creativity still exists inside me even if I cannot express it like I used to. I forget that I still possess gifts I use every day. I still retain the perception of detail, the technique, the ability to recognize and appreciate the creative. My inability became ability turned on its head, my medium code, my canvas a computer screen. My programming was my art, my expression. But it wasn’t good enough, it was never good enough, just as I was never satisfied with my art. Countless days and nights of work for survival have repressed this expression. I separated myself because I had to. My work is no longer me, it is beauty without soul, technique in return for money and stability rather than a celebration of creativity.

I used to be so passionate. I used to care so much about art, about the Web. I don’t anymore. It’s lifeless, full of Web 2.0 gradients and Facebook ubiquity. People don’t even understand, like Van Gogh’s work was misunderstood while he was alive. I only wish something I have ever done, traditional or digital, had an iota of that much power, even a tainted reflection of that kind of genius.

My only medium left now is my words and actions, my canvas the minds and lives of other people. I only feel definition from helping with and absorbing their pain, as damaged as that makes me. I cannot stop because it’s all I have left, the only thing that reflects the creativity buried deep within me. I cannot feel safe myself, but I can foster it in others. I can give to them what I never had and suspect I can never have. I can train my daughter in the same way I was as she expresses interest. I can pass on my gifts in that way, to help her access that place I used to inhabit fully but is walled off now.

I still feel the urge boil to the surface, I still feel that pull to create. It was the only way I could escape my childhood, to express what I couldn’t comprehend; to find the beauty again. But now when I reach within I can’t touch it, it’s like fingernails clawing on glass. I want to break through, to allow it all to escape but I don’t know how. I’ve been pounding on the glass for 13 years, only making cracks that occasionally allow something reflective of the real me to escape. It’s all sealed up again now, tempered and thicker than before. I don’t think I can break it again, yet I know I have to just to be healthy. These words carry so little weight compared to how I could once communicate.

[Sannah]

Therapy will help you.......

Try to remember that as complicated as things become,the flow and ebb lessens and intensifies.When the flow of the painful moments in life lessens...grab materials and force yourself to begin something.Sometimes a beginning is all you need for something to take off.
The beauty is still there.There's a smoky obstruction clouding you from seeing it clearly...but it won't always be the case.There's a wonderful artist still inside you waiting to escape,perhaps a writer.Your pain; and the empathy you have gained, can be a hand reaching out.But you know that.
What you have yet to learn is how to reach out to you.Flow with the pull to create.Do you shut the door? Or do you try desperately to open it... and it just doesn't budge?
Maybe you need to explore other avenues of creativity.Have you considered writing your story and being published?
From your posts,I can see that you have endured tremendous pain,and that due to the tenderness of your heart ,you've absorbed all of it ...yours...and all those around you as well.There's a place in this world for the beauty you have...you just need a destination.A book to write into,a canvas to paint on...paper to sketch images onto.
None succeeded destroying what was there.I assure you ,your words are no where near vague enough to carry little weight!
*~W~*

[mgran]

Creativity comes and goes. It's not something you can turn on... I agree that therapy can help you release it. There's nothing more awful than feeling a need to create, to communicate, but having it stopped before it can express itself. I hope, I really do, that things get better soon.

[Crew]

therapy is the key

However, like wolfsong said, you have handled those ruff times and yet you were creative enough to make it to this point right now....

Have you tried clay? The way the clay rolls through your fingers and you feel maybe your pain there and then sculpt without thinking...

Oh and your post wow, you can write well also, I would love to be able to write and get those feelings out.... What a great time to try a medium you haven't done like for instance
buy a mask, paint what you show the world or what you want the world to be

then on the inside of the mask paint how they are.
Have you free associated painting and writing. They are both fun in there own right give it a try and see...................................

I'm Crew nice to meet you

Just keep posting, and get it out..........that is what I'm trying to do.

Paint splatted aprons social group is a great place to display anything you think...... Good luck to you and know your in my thoughts,
from your new friend,
crew

You are precious as you've always been Crew.....Be well love