Many thanks to Brian, who gave me permission to use his artwork in this post. @briansostrom: if there is anything I should correct regarding properly crediting you for your artwork please let me know (I do want to do it right).
Inspired by Brian Sostrom’s painting called Under (you’ll want to visit this link, the picture is larger there :-] ). Brian does some of the most beautiful artwork I’ve seen, please visit his blog and view his work.
His artwork continues to prompt me to deeper thoughts and speaks to my heart.
The past few days have been melancholy. The holiday prompted solitude, self-imposed, and the negative thoughts that grew thicker than crows on the power lines. I couldn’t help but inhale it in.
I was working on Coffee #6 (where I write more on this) and took a break. I saw the post Brian shared on his latest post, and it literally took my breath away.
It feels… like me right now.
The sun shines through right above my head,
But all I can see is the uncertainty of the future,
The gloom swaddling my next step.
The sky is blue right above me
But all I can see is the darkness straight ahead
Waiting to swallow me whole.
The land beneath my feet
Is uncertainty; is it sand, or land, or water, or is it only
It wasn’t the light that caught my eye… what does that say about me?
The shadowed vista, like I could walk for miles and never get closer. I could sprint for hours and never get “there” -and what is there? More of here? Is this what it is? Is this all there is?
Green skies, tornado warnings, will the sun above follow, or will I leave it behind in my haste to get “there”?
I keep looking, glancing, and seeing what I missed. Like that light blue in the corner horizon line, and the light green in the distant sky. It’s not all darkness down “there”.
My skewed eyes… how can I share what I see? We’ll never see the same thing, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look. The beauty is in the diversity, not synonymously staring eye to eye.
I dunno, the more I look, the more it shows the melding of hope and despair. Tomorrow, I’ll see something different, maybe; the day after…who knows?
But it’s not all dark. There is so much light. Even “there”, the light shines so bright! Instead of watching the dark ground, perhaps I should stare at the lit sky and all the promise it holds.
Really, it’s perspective. To me, the dark horizon is the ground, not the sky.
A minute ago, I would have told you the dark curves of the horizon represented the sky, not the ground.
It really is (about)… perspective.