As I sit here listening to Alicia Keys, pondering over my latest inspiration for the continuation of the Porn Flowers, I keep coming back to HEALING, HOPE, and LOVE (which inspired the first batch of flowers in 2003). In an effort to heal deep wounds from my past, sometimes I wish for selective amnesia to forget painful memories forever branded in my recollection of this art life. Hoping with unrelenting faith, that dreams do come true. And rediscovering love in all forms as I've never known it before. In seeking wholeness. To feel complete and free again.
I look around and see folks striving for something- some happy, some hopeless. What's especially inspiring is observing other people's struggles - watching folks fight hard going after a glorious dream, dealing with the loss of a loved one, healing from divorce, seeing a homeless stranger acquire a few bucks for food, helping a friend accept truth in unrequited love, seeing my father upset that he's losing his motor skills and his ability to walk. I can't help but be inspired to paint about this struggle and capture its essence - such unwavering strength.
I sit quietly pretending to be an invisible ghost observing these people who struggle, admiring them; loving them; wondering what their struggles are, if they're the same as mine. Wondering what they're striving for, what they're hurting from, what they're healing from.
When I reflect upon what struggle has done for me and my character over the past decade as an artist, I can't help but be thankful. My struggles have served as a mental toughness training ground with each and every adversity I've defeated. In summing up the purpose of struggle, let me quote something I wrote in a parting letter (to end a short courtship) last week - "Struggle has humbled me and strengthened my humility that one can only earn from the lessons of suffering. And for that I am grateful".
It's been a fulfilling kind of struggle, where each tear shed served its purpose in reaching a goal. A honest struggle in feeling the satisfaction I get from being able to add another "line" to my vitae, right after the joy I feel of being able to indent to insert another bullet point. A progressive struggle in looking forward to the long road ahead, having acknowledged that my road hasn't been too long as a young artist. A faithful struggle knowing that I'm not doing this for nothing, but for all those reasons that serve as motivators when it's 5am and I'm still up, cramming for an 8am deadline. A triumphant struggle, to be rewarded that rare validation when you get selected for something; when you're awarded some sort of recognition. A healing struggle.
A healing struggle? Yes, a healing struggle. A healing struggle knowing that the forward battle somehow heals wounds that need to be left behind. With every chisel into my weakened adversity, the dead debris transforms into magic dust healing old, gaping wounds. That my friends, is called the satisfaction of progress - my definition of success. In other words, all that I need to keep doing this art thing til I can't do it anymore... Fuel for my fire.
As long as I'm fulfilled, I'm successful. I'm satisfied. I'm healed.
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