Origins of Vision
This photo was taken by my dad.
This is the exact moment that the vision took hold.
To talk about how this vision came to me, I have to be honest about the fact that I spent much of the last decade in a haze of inspiration. Although I don’t believe there is anything inherently wrong with smoking, what began as a fun way to connect with others became a crutch that, for a while, helped me hide the truth; especially from myself.
It was a weekend of celebrating the love my cousin had found, becoming reacquainted with family members who hadn’t seen me in years, and getting to know a part of my older brother for the first time. I was in the comfort of my best friend, little brother and his now fiancee, they always seem to leave room for me to be exactly who I am, with all the messiness and the belief that I am more than what my circumstances held at that point. Mix in a little inebriation, and let’s just say it was the perfect mix of something old and something new, a few borrowed emotions, and a heart that was still bruised and blue. At that point in my life, I found myself to be a cynic of sorts when it comes to love, while simultaneously finding myself caught in all the complications love brings. I had come to the conclusion that "both/and" could be true. I sat up for so long that night, developing this first concept of seeing the world through rose-colored lenses.
After this time away, small visions and silent whispers would catch my attention, but there was no space in my mind to really reflect and focus on the work. As I began going to therapy, cutting ties with unhealthy habits, and finding the courage to walk away from people I’ve loved for a long time, the work became louder. Every time I left space for growth, it seemed this vision was relentless; it poured out of me most days, swelled, pooled, and then spilled into my quiet moments. Ultimately, any time spent healing gave this vision time. New ideas would come to mind and others would fall off, but the work called to me.
I think my experiences with love and grief aren’t necessarily new to the human condition, but for me, it was clear that lessons were being taught, it just took me a long while to understand them. I think I’ve been creating around these topics for much of my life, just as I have searched for love while grieving for most of my adult life. Through therapy, I learned to forgive myself for my own human condition. I have learned to give grace within the expectations I have for myself, and I continue to learn to not only love myself, but also trust myself. This work is a reflection of my inner workings, a snapshot of experiences that may be familiar to some or chaos for others. With deep intentionality, this work healed me. The fragments are sewn together and molded with gold; I am beautiful.
