In The Grey

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, I have learned then to live in this grey state, to explore it, to draw inspiration from it the way I know I must to survive, the way they have told me how. I know that we as creatives go through these things often, through the bricks and barriers, the churning over and the falling down and the getting up again... I know, I know, I know how it feels to be in the grey, to see the window and feel the breeze coming though, but being chained down or blind folded or buried or tangled... beyond reach.

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. 

Rachel's Senior Adventures

 The sleepy clouds rolled in slowly, like a stretch and a yawn and a shiver that runs down the spin as eyes open to a new day. The sun bid us a drowsy good morning as it peaked through the clouds every now and then while we drove down roads much tread by memory and times past, a ribbon of time that wound it's way to the mountains. Ah yes, the mountains; they welcomed us with hands rough with the cares of time, but gentle, like a firm handshake from a kind old gentleman.

Yes, to the mountains we went; a refuge they are, a place to go to get away from all that is rush and hurry and go, a place you can simple breath. And it was a joy to go to such a place to create pictures. It is not every day I get to take photos of viola playing maidens who walk bare foot, well, at least upon request, whose music spills over to join in a duet with waterfalls. We followed the sounds of the stream down to where colors of Autumn still braved the winds of Wyoming and held on to the trees. Ducking around branches that desperately wanted to poke and grab at us, we made it to corners of orange and red and took photos in the smooth light, and then scampered through hills and paths and tall grass, posing with books and letting hair fly with the wind.

I miss Wyoming, the plains that stretch and stretch away with nothing hindering their wide escape, the stars that aren't snuffed out by city lights, and yes even the wind. It is a place of memory, a story always seems to be on the breeze of times made true by hard work and perseverance; it runs so deep in that place.

I must say, Rachel was such a joy to work with; braving the woods and streams and tall grass and the many times I had her fling her hair or spin in circles. Her and her family are dear friends of mine, and when they asked me, somewhat in a spur of the moment, to take photos of her while I was in Wyoming ( and staying in their house and being the best man in their sons wedding and sleeping in a cabin... no big deal), I couldn't have been more happy. As I said, it is not everyday I get to do what I did, and I am glad I had a chance to work with amazing people in amazing places.

It was, so truly, the best way to end my visit to Wyoming.