"As An Artist...why Do You Create?"

The Wisps of Life

We sat, it was both of us alone in there. I asked, “Do you regret it, do you regret any of it at all?” She stared at me with an almost unreadable smile As if—as if I already knew the answers to that. As if we both knew the answer to that question.

“Not really,” she laughed with this carefree spirit. Head tilted back with uncontained mirth and all. I wondered briefly if the shadows of life had ever truly graced her, Or had the upturns of her lips tasted the weight of the world exponentially. Perhaps one too many times—one too many.

Our eyes locked and for a split second, I saw it. The intricately woven tapestry of life—threads of gold beyond the void. Clumsy fingers red and sore from the unexpected thorns and pricks. I understood it all. I smiled in return, of course she had, I’d know that more than anyone, wouldn’t I?

“Do you regret any of it at all?” there’s a knowing glint in her kind eyes. Brief memories of cold eyes, wet pillows, sleepless nights, homesickness. Suffocating silence, tearful letters, words—so many words left unsaid. Tremors of an empty stomach, deepening shadows, the complete isolation. That dreadful feeling of being too different, the unforeseen weight of generations prior.

Yet—I’ve always known something else. Something more, something warmer.

There’s a faint but steady pulse against where my hand lays on my chest. Tearful laughter, wind in my hair, dirt under my feet, chirping of birds every dawn, Clammy hands in mine, a comforting shoulder, broken facades, the gentle whisper of weary but hopeful hearts connecting, the glimmers of hope—gold amongst the dark. I breathed in, then out and suddenly as our eyes met again, I knew. I was alive.

Reaching out, cold meeting warm, our palms connected for a moment in time, “No, not really,” I echoed with a giggle, pulling away a second later. I got up, facing away, sore hands reaching out towards the cold doorknob now. As the cold surface thawed against the heat of my palms, I took one glance back. A foggy handprint, the only remnant of our brief moment shared together. ~Elunara W.

'Whispers of the Undead' [Visualization of an Inner Subconscious Community]

I got this very cute imagery that made me emotional...having this underworld community village that I visit and giggle and sip tea with quote unquote "monsters" and this village only came to be because one at a time….the "monsters" or "demons" don't have to wander around this seemingly desolate plane anymore……only because as we sit down with them and get to know them better……we also create a literal home…their own space for them to stay…. and that's why everyone knows us in the village and why we could have a little village in the first place….why we could have a community where one by one they are not lost or wandering feelings or souls anymore. They have their own little unique cottages or houses with their own unique belongings. I think it is so important to listen and feel into one's emotions, especially the emotions that make us feel uncomfortable. Sometimes they just want us to listen and they too deserve a space to exist even if only temporarily. ~whimsicweaver

The Embrace of Light and Dark

"We use the darkness to justify our fears of the unknown and unfamiliar~ Although the fears are valid, and indeed can become true they are only illusions at the present and we shouldn't allow that to stop us. There is light in darkness; a comfort and there is darkness in light; discomfort." ~Elunara W.

2007-07-29

The Consciousness of Innocence

It grows with us; I think it is never truly lost or taken away. I think it is through experiences that we truly come to understand and appreciate our innocence and purity. Life is a journey to return or rather remove the layers within oneself that deny, push or cover the higher truth of our purest form. Innocence is not the lack of corruption nor its absence, it is the experience of that innocence despite the wounds. It is the tenderness, the moments of reprieve in spite of the hardships faced. It is not naive; innocence is knowing, it is aware. It is a state of awareness and through life we learn to appreciate our innocence amongst all the difficulties. "How can we truly appreciate the warmth...without having not experienced the harsh bite of the freezing cold? Or how can we appreciate the cool...without having not experienced the sweltering heat?" ~Elunara W. Inner monologue about Innocence and the apparent "loss" of it.

The Life of The Candle

"I wonder if the candle wick knows of pain. I wonder if it feels grief as it eventually withers away. Or perhaps…I wonder if it knows of the beautiful light it radiates, the soft, comforting glow within the darkness. Maybe that makes it worth it. Maybe the candle dances unapologetically as itself, unabashedly giving off such a bright light. Maybe it knows of its temporary time here….temporary time to leave a mark. Does the candle wick feel grief or does it fade away with a last laugh, leaving behind a cheeky wink in its wake? Who knows…? But we do know that it shines brightly." ~Elunara W. Gaining a new perspective of life through the eyes of a candle

"To be loved is up to you. Read that again" ~Elunara W.

We can be surrounded by love but not be open to receiving it. Sometimes we close out or block that love from entering because of various valid circumstances, however it is up to us to open ourselves up to receiving that love again. Even if we do it slowly. It's important that we preserve that sensitivity to receiving love in all its different forms and that can be beyond difficult after experiencing the harsher faces of love...but it's not impossible and this sentiment is enough for me to keep embracing love and its many faces.

The Magic, the Wand and the Wielder

What if we have been the magicians of our own lives all along~? Think about it. When a magician performs magic, a wave of a hand or wand seems to make something appear from seemingly "nowhere". We all have this ability within us. We conjure up all these ideas, thoughts, concepts from this astral space and are able to ground these ideas from the ethers to the 3D. That's our magic. We perform this magic act in many ways whether we choose to compose a song, write a story, design or craft something...we are the magic. Our vessel and talents are the magic wand through which we channel and carry out these spells. The action oriented vehicle for that magic. And overall...? We are the wielders of our personal magic, we get to decide how we wield our power. We are limitless; we have access to infinite potential within the very calluses of our hands or the abstract space of our minds. I think that's personally very inspiring...you are the magician of your life...a creator.

~Elunara W.

The Mirror's Role

Perhaps we owe the mirror an apology. It was made for us to reflect with ourselves not to compare or degrade ourselves. The mirror exists to reflect the truest perception that we hold of ourselves therefore creating the reality around those beliefs. If we never had the mirror, many people say we'd have an easier time accepting ourselves and that can be true…if it never existed it'd surely make for an easier time removing that attachment to a physical lens we have but that's not the higher truth…the mirror shows us what we see and tell ourselves. The mirror has probably been the easiest target for the role of a scapegoat as we don't always like to face ourselves nor our truths…so we've projected a lot of resentment, hatred, anger towards something we created with our own hands. Our own creation suffered at the hands of its creator because we couldn't bare to give up our attachment to self-loathing. It's not our fault, nor is it the mirror's but in the end we are responsible for removing that distortion and for seeing who and what we are in all our glory; the good, evil, beautiful, ugly, everything.

~Elunara W.

The Weaver of Tunes

"I wonder if the wind giggles in fondness or even gasps in excitement when they discover a being who hangs windchimes. I wonder if the air stops for just a moment in complete awe…as if breathless at the sight of glistening beams under the sun's rays. I wonder if it then rushes forward, a complete, wholehearted laugh swishing by…oh so willing to play a tune. I wonder how many people truly hear the whispers and hums of the pure wind. Maybe it can be a lonely thing sometimes but oh I still wonder…the absolute joy in finally playing its own unique tune, oh so open and willing to sing for anyone who'd stop for a second to listen." ~Elunara W.

Visualisation of wind weaving through wind chimes. We should stop and listen to the song of the wind sometimes. Maybe we may learn a thing or two <3