ray53208

It's been a while. Everything is gone. Starting over again.

Don't talk. Just listen. I love you. I forgive you. I forgive us. You're going away. It's okay. The memories of what we were live on forever inside us. Guiding us along our paths. Maybe, if fortune blesses us, those memories will nudge us, ever so gently, back together, every now and again. And, with every parting, a new star to guide us. To remind us that we are capable of true love, that is the greatest part of being human.

We broke up. She left. I moved. A lot has happened and all I really want to do is be able to catch up with myself. I feel hurried and lost. I want to be more creative. I feel it might hold importance as I rebuild who I am. Maybe for the first time since I originally left home so long ago. In any regard, the me who I had created and established for the purpose of being a couple is dead. I need to discover who I am now. Especially because that storm picked me up and set me down in a vastly different place. Will I draw any more? Will I write more now? Will I ever get published? I don't know.

I have ideas for role playing games, settings, comic books. I feel as if life is getting in the way of my creative aspirations. I need a breakthrough.

i have a new home. new job, new furniture, new outlook, new future, new friends.

i have been drawing more. i sit alone, after work, in a nearby starbucks, and just draw. not every day, my schedule doesn't allow for that. but when i sit down and tune out the world with some music i can relax enough to let things happen.

i find that i have to let a few random drawings out first. kind of a purging of the subconscious. if i come to the table with an agenda, no drawings happen. i have to relax and just let the drawing take shape. sometimes its crap, sometimes its gold, sometimes nothing happens...

but yesterday i did three sketches. the time before that three. the time before that two... i think, i hope, i have found a way to clear out the artist block that has been plaguing me since art school burnout nearly ten years ago.

once i am done letting the subconscious go poopy on the page, i find that i can draw something that i want a little more easily.

fingers crossed.

My mom was a tenacious individual who overcame so much in her life. She worked hard and raised me to value happiness and compassion over wealth or status. From her I got my tenacity, my sense of humor, my intuition, my sense of justice, and my independent streak. In the times when I felt as if the whole world had turned on me, she was always there for me. She believed in me when no one else did. She protected me when I felt the most alone and lost.

On the day my mother passed I spoke to her in her ear, hoping that somewhere inside she could hear and understand. I said that she should not be afraid. That she was not alone. That she was loved. I told her that she was a good person and a good mother. I told her that she had fought longer and harder than anyone could ever ask or expect. That she earned her rest and it was okay to let go. I said to her that she would go and see the face of god. That he would know her as his own daughter. That he would embrace her and take her into paradise. That she would know no pain and no sorrow ever again. I told her that I would be good. I told her that I would miss her. I stroked her hair, kissed her gently on her forehead, and said good bye.

It has been almost a year since her passing. I miss her every single day. I would give anything for one more talk with her.