Like layers, peeling back. Slowly. Quietly. Gently, she goes.

 

And the shedding of each layer reveals fresh new skin. A new perspective. A new coat of armour. And she paints it, like a canvas, in watercolour, with words.

 

She is not responsible for how others perceive her work. Perhaps one day they appreciate it, and the next they do not. Perhaps they haven’t the time to stop and look. Perhaps it simply does not resonate with them.

 

The perceptions, and expectations of others are none of her business. Their judgements, and ideals – the space they occupy – reflects their journey.

 

Their thoughts, and criticisms, and opinions are not crutches for her reasoning. They do not prop her up. No, that is not why she creates. She creates because it is her journey. She creates because not to, is inconsiderable. She creates, because her soul drips in expression – soundless, bottomless, emotionless, raw expression.

 

And so her artwork becomes an extension of the universe. Each ripple spills over, falls onto the page before her, and creates something new. It happens again, and again, and again…

 

And with each new creation, an old one is left behind. Every single piece of work marks a moment that came and went, yet still remains seamlessly bound to every moment that preceded it, and every moment that will surely follow.

 

Like layers, peeling back.

 

Slowly. Quietly. Gently, she goes.

 

There is new growth. There are new beginnings, and new opportunities. Doors open. Doors close. She is patient. The art, she is learning, is to ride the waves {if she forces things, she falls; if she fears things, she falls}. So she seeks balance in the moment, and trusts the wave will carry her exactly where she needs to go.

 

And as she begins to let go of the idea of where that wave might take her, and the expectation that it will carry her anywhere at all. Then, and only then, can she find her balance in the moment, and the freedom to trust in the art of creating.