I have been in a creative bust since the start of my teaching career. I haven’t been able to write or draw (let alone read a book). Although, to be honest, I haven’t quite been in the “feeling” mode as well. I often “feel” like I’m on neutral rather than the overwhelming catastrophe of emotions I used to be.
Sooo, I decided to try to get in touch with my evidently missing artistic soul. And this is the result.
I’m not completely disappointed but also not completely elated. I got tired while doing the hair, hence, the angry unblended lines. I’ve recently been binge-watching Pretty Little Liars and I really love Troian Bellisario’s character, Spencer Hastings…
Well, this attempt has certainly sparked an interest to re-pursue my old hobbies. So, there’s that.
Found this on my facebook wall. Wrote it a year ago.
I’ve been meaning to post and write yet I haven’t been posting and writing.
I didn’t realize it then…
or entertained the thought long,
and I don’t know if you remember a phone call,
years before this blew up in our faces,
when I said “I love you,” for the first time (the actual first time)
Because I had misheard you – the slight gurgle of those uncertain, almost unintelligible
three words- and thought you had said the same.
I had daydreams about this, a little secret I played with
myself – one of the pastimes in my head
I sigh and dream and sigh and dream again.
There’s a certain finality to a feeling or a fact when you arrange them into words in your head or utter them with your lips… that make them harder to take back and harder to suppress.
It’s when the reality of things seem like a distant galaxy and now a meteor shower has come unnotified. Flustered, you duck for cover but still in view of a nocked arrow.
When Mistakes come to claim the ones we love, Regret rushes in to stop them while Time sputters a glance but refuses to turn back.
Your arms will always be the arms that held the breaking faults of my soul