In analyzing my life without trying to sound remorseful or even unkind to myself, I now realize that every hour, every minute, every second is not history, but art. I hold the brush, and I can paint the details of my life with the delicate, timely precision of a skilled artist with each minuscule stroke that I choose, or I can rush the craftsmanship by crudely overlooking the sparkle of each second. Now, looking back at the wonder of my past, I have for many years chose to make it a struggle, but now realizing, I merely chose to paint with dull, muted colors. I have tried to let go of many things in my life, by now realizing that what I was trying to let go of, merely added to the mastery or the framework of my life, the backbone, though warped in many ways, yet much stronger. Perhaps that is the beauty of art. I focused on the learning as painful, instead of loving. Instead of showing the moments of pain with the beauty of light that perhaps it deserves, I hid my pain under muted skies, away from light. Yet, looking back, the saying ‘if I only had 20/20 vision’ at the time, that perhaps, I would not have made the mistakes that I made. Enlightening tickled when, someone pointed out, how did I know they were mistakes? Then I knew without a shadow of doubt that I needed to switch my colors, because the so-called mistakes have now became the highlights of my art. Learning, is strength, not dull at all, but when I am no longer here, and someone looks back at my finished art piece, I want highlights , so I have made a note to myself that the highlights or struggles are colorful contributions to my life making it a true masterpiece. Perhaps, that is why Vincent Van Gogh chose such vibrant colors for his art that now sells for millions.
Mary 03/18/20Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in