For me, this was a tough semester of trying to put together a piece. Any piece. Anything I wanted. It could be ANYTHING.
And I started to drown inside that idea. There was too much freedom, too much room for me to play and explore. I ended up lost in fifteen (roughly) different directions and didn’t know where to land. I let the entire project shift into this dream and image in my mind. I stopped journalling about it, I stopped blogging, I stopped really creating what I wanted and needed. I just started to drown. I felt as if there was a big empty gap in my brain.
Which was fine, though, honestly. It’s part of it, this whole MFA student thing, this whole artist thing, even this whole life thing. Sometimes, you just have to tread with your head barely above water. And, it’s in that little moment when there is nothing left that you it all comes together. The tiny crack of light before the door shuts, and you grab it, and swing it back open. (Sometimes only to see what you’ve been avoiding.)
untitled.
he stood there.
waiting for the moment when the empty space would fill,
but not with items
it would fill with light.
grabbing on to that last second before the color changes
and what was just seen is gone forever.
because shadowing is ephemeral,
like love.
and you must revel in the final seconds,
for that is where the truth comes out.
k.h.
November 2014
*a short poem I wrote on that “final moment”
And I started to drown inside that idea. There was too much freedom, too much room for me to play and explore. I ended up lost in fifteen (roughly) different directions and didn’t know where to land. I let the entire project shift into this dream and image in my mind. I stopped journalling about it, I stopped blogging, I stopped really creating what I wanted and needed. I just started to drown. I felt as if there was a big empty gap in my brain.
Which was fine, though, honestly. It’s part of it, this whole MFA student thing, this whole artist thing, even this whole life thing. Sometimes, you just have to tread with your head barely above water. And, it’s in that little moment when there is nothing left that you it all comes together. The tiny crack of light before the door shuts, and you grab it, and swing it back open. (Sometimes only to see what you’ve been avoiding.)
untitled.
he stood there.
waiting for the moment when the empty space would fill,
but not with items
it would fill with light.
grabbing on to that last second before the color changes
and what was just seen is gone forever.
because shadowing is ephemeral,
like love.
and you must revel in the final seconds,
for that is where the truth comes out.
k.h.
November 2014
*a short poem I wrote on that “final moment”