To suffer is lovely





I felt like sharing an experience that I recently had.  Let’s say…. I visited a small planet that exists only after you choose to arrive.  I can’t tell you too much but most of you are smart.  I’ll assume you are smart and we can continue without detail. 

I entered the evening with very little expectations. However, nothing happened the way I could ever plan even if there was a plan.

I have spent a large portion of my life controlling the world around me.  It bred alot of interesting and undesirable results.  I had to suffer greatly, destroy myself and my world in order to rebuild… everything is different.

Back to my experience….

You know let me touch a little more on why I’m writing this.  I believe the world lies too much. Lies about who we are, our successes. Lies about our world.   Protecting ourselves from a perception of risk, when really it may only be separating us wildly.

As humans, what are we? We are so many unrelentingly beautiful things. We are free if we allow ourselves to be.  But freedom isn’t a pass to comfort. There isn’t alwsys comfort in freedom.

I found myself writhing in an oil painting of my own misery.  Suffering. Anguish. Both beautiful and destructive. Fear and love and unbridled suffering. The kind your don’t survive. The kind that crushes your bones, if you had any, into star dust and truth.  I am a volcano a river of pure emotions.  I took photos of myself in the midst of it.  I barely could function through the waves of emotions. How crippling and lovely an experience of overwhelming emotions. Waving, pulsing,  gripping. Begging for nothing. Asking for nothing. Just being.  You have no choice but to be. 

Hot skin like a fever but it felt like a pulsing river. Pulling only inward.

Facing yourself, the truth of your being can be horrifying, necessary and tormenting. Weeping like a terrified child but feeling appreciative for it. Every idea surging through me like an arrow. All the while knowing it’s fear and love that drives me. I want to be free and so I stand in it. I am a small fraction of life with an unyielding voice and I know what I am made of…more now than ever before and yet I know nothing.

I wish I could have taken more creative images but that too would have been a lie.  This is what it felt like to exist without the barrier between my insides and the world. primal heart. Feral.  Love. Torture.


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