A piece of my art shattered into a million pieces at the beginning of summer and I spent the next two months recovering. I recovered those pieces of that artwork that were authentic and true. I picked up the pieces that were ugly and twisted and told myself to discover the opposites of those pieces in hopes to place them into the masterpiece in the making. This masterpiece would be bolder,wiser, stronger…
Those ugly, twisted pieces were sharp with their bitter truths as they cut me to my core, revealing parts of that artwork that I had masked and bandaged up for so many years. I cleaned the wound, rinsing it out and telling myself to give it the proper healing time. Yet, my anxiousness to rush the process resulted in a foolish decision. I attempted to pick the scab off early because it was ugly and I was tired of looking at the reminder of what I once was. Big mistake. Picking the scab simply showed me I had not yet healed properly, so it was back to tender moments to the touch and waiting for the scab to form once more. I toyed with the idea on whether or not I could work on my masterpiece while healing from an injury. I came to the conclusion that working through the wounds was a way to strengthen them.
Once I healed from the cuts of those jagged pieces, I laid them to rest close by. No, not to hold onto them in hopes of back tracking but to remind myself of everything I did not want in my masterpiece. I did not plan to touch those parts of the old work, just as a reminder of what was and what will be.
Those pieces that I found that could be used for the masterpiece were smooth to the touch. Almost like sea glass that washes up among oysters shells in the warm ocean water. Turning those pieces over on my hand, I felt peace and at home. My spirit shed tears of relief and comfort that warmed even the smallest parts of my recovering body. The warmth spread from the arch in my foot to the small of back, filling me with a presence that was refreshing and whispered into the small of my ear “it’s okay”. I held those pieces to my heart as I thought of where to place them in the masterpiece. I wanted them to be sprinkled throughout the work as a reminder of the good that can rise from the ashes of destruction, serving as the foundation for the newer pieces I would put in place.
This masterpiece is a continuation. It will never be “finished”. My soul will continue to search for new pieces, my eyes will continue to find the best places for them, and my hands will continue to place them into the work. It can be shown in the gallery but a sign will rest nearby saying “a work in progress” as a reminder that it may not be perfect because it is still being refined… constantly.
As the years go on, I will put my all into making this masterpiece something that people will come from far and wide to view. They will appreciate its beauty, rawness, and authenticity. Yet the judgments of others will not deter my choices in creating the work. It will not sway me away or towards subtracting pieces or adding them. As the artist, I say what goes in this masterpiece.
It’s time for me to get back to work.
Love and light,