There have been many times in these past days when I have thought that the limit of my words had simply come to an end, that the soil with which words sprout and bud and bloom to feel the sun upon petal and stem was simply too dry to cultivate anything of use. The sky seemed to grow dim, the nefarious grey setting into my joints and spine, suffocating the dexterity of my fingers. I felt alone among the silent words of a different language, lost in a confine I couldn't see; stuck.
I asked myself often if I had lost it. The creativity, the life to my work, the ability to keep creating and finding inspiration and writing it down, the wheel turning, the hammer ringing? Will this wall that I lean against break down or at least crack or at least fade so that I may see what it is I should say, see where my creativity has run off too, peak through the notches and splinters to view what I am supposed to be doing just over the wall. I have been told it will come back to me, told to hold my breath and wait, told that eventually the words will live again, that I have not lost creativity... But sometimes it's hard to see it so.
Sometimes it is hard to wait.
I am predisposed to believe them, for they are correct whether I think so or not, whether I see the sun or whether I look at the ground. Yet, as of late, I have been left wishing that I could convey everything I want to in words I do not possess, in a voice I can not command. Where do these words go when you can not find them?
I do not know the answer.
So, If I can offer anything to those who have felt this way, it is this: that it's okay to not know what to say, to not know what to create, to not know how, and it is so truly okay to be in the grey, if that's what you need at this moment. The greys and the blacks and whites, the falling lower where the house is locked and the key lost, they are for learning, they are to teach you how to create when it's hard, how to take a break when needed, how to simply sit and stare out the window, and also how to pray from within the house, in the place of the unknown and silence.
For in the silence we hear God's voice.
The photo below is of self blindness. I know that much, as I am usually aware of why I created the photo, but I have spent the past week wondering what else to say of it, what source of help I could give to people from it; yep, I was completely in the grey, looking around in that house behind the wall. And so I prayed and let it be, worked on what needed to be worked on and let God guide my mind to where it was supposed to go; I took my own advice, and, huh, it worked. Through this I realized that yes, it is okay to not know what to say, okay to wander through that house, but it is so important to know, above anything else, the why you created, to know the depth of it all even if it is just an obscure idea that is hard to describe in words, and to then create and see it before you in such a way that just makes you slip into a different world; that is why I create, that is why I share, and that is what I feel called to do.
And don't worry, because from these things, the things that inspire you, the reasons of why you create, from there the words will come, the inspiration will return, for one of the greatest things I have discovered is that your ability, your inspirations, your creativity, it never ever leaves you.
I promise it will return when it feels as if it has left.
For those in the grey, and for those who have chosen to follow along on my strange photo shoots and ramblings, thank you. I create for you and my King.