I’ve been meeting with an art therapist… I’ve spoken of my fears around change and unprecedented grief. This grief has not yet fallen, but it is inevitable. Intellectually, I am well in tune with the cycle of life… yet emotionally and spiritually, I am tethered to a deep, sometimes debilitating sadness. I don’t want to fear so much that I miss what I have. I want to learn to embrace the moment fully… more often… because there is nothing else.
My assignment is to create, using any media, a different internal habitat that frees me from the prison of my thinking.
For starters, I unleashed my internal arsonist and began to turn my prison into ashes. The ashes… or thoughts… will still exist, but I will no longer be imprisoned by their solid, impenetrable form.
Now, the fire follows me, but I am safe until the glacier melts away the haven I have created. There is beauty here, my harlequin sense of humor… although I am limited by the form of the glacier. There will be a time when I must move…