Healing Arts

We may search for the rush of glory when we try to achieve the extraordinary, but life’s purest pleasures live in the simple and ordinary.



Please grant me…

Happiness in the absence of pursuit.

A fullness without acquisition.

Meaning without analysis.

The past is a story I tell myself.  Illustrated with a set of photos in an album. Sound bytes and sensations, strung together to weave a fabric for my imagination.

These stories, de-construct and re-construct, with each new experience.

Some dots join visibly, while others are silent, still.

Invisible.

As the image forms, the story changes, evolves.

Who I am also changes with the stories of my past.

The future will never find me.

If living is about balance, then I have veered far into the side that thinks and controls rather than feels and does.

The repercussions of my past acts haunting me, shame and regret are shackles that bind me.

We as a society restrain our impulses to adjust and adapt as social beings.

Those impulses we hold deeply bound inside us grow stronger with the restraints.

Erupting unexpectedly somewhere, somehow.

Living is a constant negotiation between self-restraint and expression, where we constantly seek the balance that allows us to be. Alive.