Don’t Hold Tightly

The mind has a tendency to want to cork it, seal it with rose colored wax, then throw a label on it.  Done.  Finished.  Ship it out.  Drink it up. We got it figured out now.

Well, at least my mind has a tendency to work like a winery.

It’s always looking for that clue that will lead to some perfected varietal. Something I can package up neatly and count on it being steady, stable, and forgiving to any last minute recklessness.

Though if I listen closely to the gods that guard the wine cellar, I know that this life as an artist comes with little to no stability, except for the cycles, the rhythms, and the deep, deep callings of creativity — those blessed deities are always predictable.

But you see, every painting that strips my heart bare is just another bridge taking me somewhere.  Carrying me over. Escorting me along.

So don’t hold tightly to labels and maps.  Don’t worry about what direction you are going in.

Art is suppose to intoxicate and numb you — so that grace can find its way in.

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