I am so ready for winter to be over. I needed a hoist, so I went for glittery accessories – my trusted blues beatin’ bat. Recently, some friends have disappointed me. That is life, I guess. People you counted on just leave you hanging. But then new ones pop up. Waters change. The key is to stay sure of what you are. What you stand for. To love without counting.
Art by Susu
In trying to feel better, I pulled out my colors and let the brush sing on the canvas. When I create, I feel alive. I need to express ‘that something’ out. Words or art. I’ve always known it was pictures, but through blogging I have discovered some inclination to writing as well.
My students have given me some nice little sweet feedback. They seem to look forward to their lessons. If I can bring into life a weekly special moment, that already should tell my little mind to be contented. Every person should count. That is what I believe.
Life is not about being praised by lots of people, being known and publicly loved. Because that love isn’t real. Or maybe it is, but not in a lasting way. Life is about living in your own universe. Loving you. The person you are, at every given moment. No matter how you feel in your body or mind.
I want to love myself and the life that I have lived, and am living. But sometimes the idea just doesn’t transform into lasting actions. My happiness is easily discouraged. Setbacks get the best of me. A tiny detail starts to bug. And there I go, off the joy wagon.
Whenever I search back in my happy moment archives, there is a common denominator. I was doing something quite simple, but appreciable, with people I love. Or thinking of people I hold dear. So it doesn’t take much. Sometimes the mere idea of thinking that something shall be sweet, renders it such.
How come then there are things that I cannot comprehend as being marvelous? Other see them as such. Why would someone not know what really makes them happy? What if I long for wrong things?
I think that in life you have to try and go and do. That also means that there will forcefully be misses. And they take character to deal with. I’d like to write fashion articles for the local newspaper. Sell more art. Travel on regular basis to New York. These are teeny thoughts that I comprehend making me more joyful.
But then, could it be that my happiness is not in those. I don’t long for much, yet often feel that what is now, isn’t what I truly want. Or that somewhere else things would be better. I have this idea of living on the beach. Being able to go jogging in the mornings, or sip wine and watch the sunset.
Maybe that dream will never come true. Maybe it wouldn’t make me happy. Because maybe happiness is something far away from anything tangible.
Maybe happiness is inside of me. And I just have to find a way to connect to it. Any thoughts of Sweet Yours?
H&M leopard top, La Halle skirt, Etam cardi, Andre shoes
Art pictures from the Montreal Museum of Modern Art