As I am painting…
Coming from some deep place in the inner workings of my head. That place that hurts the most. The Pain is not physical, but mental. the kind of pain that makes you think too much, that twists around spinning, turning, scared. Earsplitting thoughts that make you uncomfortable. The blood is impelling my veins, throbbing through the lobes of my forehead. Its uncomfortable. Strange and appealing at the same time. This must be why at times I don’t remember creating. Maybe I don’t want to remember.
Looking beyond what society has taught us. At the very beginning of life, you must behave this way and that way. then you get rewarded. mash in with the sheep, conform to the norm and be rewarded. stay safe, don’t express yourself, get rewarded. Breaking from this has been difficult. Slowly and hidden it stays within the comforts of my own little box. Worried about the reaction and being accepted. it would seep out from time to time but with constraints.