Creating A Life

handI grew a beard to disappear, changing the way I am seen and in turn, how I see myself.
Whiskey sips keeps me warm when blankets fail and the thought of turning up the heat in April remains absurd. I am sore, covered in cuts, bruises and scabs, some of which I can’t trace their origin, but they are here regardless. My hands are calloused and dry, fitting for a man wearing my lumberjack-like attire. Now sitting in The Well, a crowded coffeehouse in Green Hills, I browse a few blogs, send a few emails and try not to make plans, but rather make a life. Sigur Ros is especially comforting today and as I look around, everyone seems a bit happier when I see them with a soundtrack. I am now faced with the task of continuing to allow my time to be used in a productive manner, but sometimes I get lost.

I look at how often my life changes and as I plan, I realize I never plan on what the reality is, so how do I figure out what to do? In my case, in this case, I figure out who I am. There have been recent situations that have guided me to deep thoughts and motivated me to make a life to be proud of. Every movement of my life is going to lead somewhere and if I know how I move, maybe I can figure out where to go. I often reflect on the fact that I typically grow the most in hard times, which sometimes last a lot longer than I would have ever hoped for. This reality is encouraging to know that I can look back on my life and see clear happenings that played a huge part in molding my character and the life I would later live, but it is also discouraging, wondering how do I grow without inviting hurt into my life.

Lately I’ve felt a bit disheveled in thought and even more-so in appearance, striving to look like the artist I wish I was. (I have so many grand ideas on how I’d like to be seen.) To me, being an artist is the umbrella over my entire life, influencing how I interpret and how I am influenced. The eyes through which I see the world are artistic, be it BMX, photography, painting, music, writing and in all of those, I soak in my surrounding to create my life. There are times I wish I just did one particular thing and that is what I was known for, but I don’t. I do a wide range of things and love each one of them for their own reasons and how they impact my life. There have been those that are impressed with all that I do, but to me, it’s simply how I have to live. I go through so many seasons, each one defining my life into what it will be on the last day I breathe; the conclusion. As I look at my life, I think of the term “Jack of all trades, master of none.” and at times, that really bothers me because lets face it, I want to be a master at all I do. While it bothers me some of the time, it also inspires me and I feel thankful to have so many ways to express myself to so many different types of people. For instance, maybe someone who saw how I rode a bike wanted to ride a bike… or maybe someone who came to watch my band bought some drums and made their own music… or maybe someone who saw my photography looked at the world a little differently each day after… or maybe my writing connected with someone and they found a relationship with my words that made sense… or maybe my paintings pushed someone to not let the opinion of their ability hinder them from creating...

Or maybe…

Did I get a bit off topic? Possibly, I can’t really tell though, I’m just moving.


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