Born Again…

My language is no longer the language of dreams. It is the language of love. I speak no more the language of sorrow. I speak only the language of life. I no longer long for abstract ideals. I strive only to achieve my goals. My heart no longer seeks to find someone to complete me. It knows now that I complete myself. I am the one writing the story of my life.

My language is no longer the language of despair. My heart brims with the confidence of experience. This too shall pass, it tells me. This too is a lesson learned, it reminds me. My love is no longer an ocean of unpredictability. It has become a fire that warms and feeds the soul but would burn anyone that approaches with ill intent whole. My dreams no longer teach me the path to go down because I ran out of dreams to dream. None of them were worth trying again and again after failing once or twice. Nothing compelled me to keep trying. Nothing inspired me to keep going. Now, I walk down all the paths before me, picking with care, yet picking with ease all the choices placed before me.

The choices I face no longer cause me heart ache, no longer make me uneasy. I have faith in my fate, whatever it may be. The Universe speaks to me for me no more, but my purpose is as of now unfulfilled. I have learned my greatest reason for existing is to be the catalyst for others to fulfill their dreams. Whether I am yhe villain that causes them to change or the friend that shows them what they were unable or unwilling to see, for the ones my life touches, a catalyst is all I will ever be. I am not meant to be the main character in the story, just the necessary supporting role without which their stories would not go where they are meant to.

I have had many lives before and lived them thoroughly. This one last chance I have been given will allow me to push people into places they never dreamed they would go and be the ladder they climb to greater hieghts. I was born again to be a tool both of destruction and of healing. I was born to enable greatness in others and destroy the evil I come across. I wasn’t born to greatness myself.

Accepting that has been the greatest struggle for my soul. I have always yearned for greatness of some kind in myself. It is just not to be. Hence, I no longer speak the language of pointless ambition. Instead, I have begun to learn the language of love anew. Loving the happiness of others and being prouder of their accomplishments than they are, trying my best to be the strength they need even as I burn them with my acidic tongue, I am striving to be as humble as I can for it is not my role to shine in this world any longer.

As I learn this new language, I am learning to love this amazing world full of contradiction and chaos all over again. The beauty I could not see is evident in my eyes once more. The peace I could not feel sometimes pays me a visit. The pain I thought myself numb to rears its ugly head occasionally but it doesn’t drown me in sorrow very often. Through it all, I continue to live, to breathe, to survive and to seek the next person for whom I may become a catalyst for greatness. Walking down this monotonous and often lonely road is not the only choice left to me but I think it is the right one. The right choices are usually the more difficult ones but they are worth every second of pain. Until I outlive my usefulness, I will continue down this path that has chosen me despite my many failings.

I am endeavoring to learn anew the wonders of the world, to travel to new places and meet new people, to broaden my horizons and learn new languages, to become more than I am. I am learning to love myself. It is like being born again and carries with it all the fear and anxieties of birth, along with the endless possibilities. I must become the Phoenix that rises from the flames of burned bridges and build new roads for me and those that will cross my path. Slowly, I must be born again.

Thank you for joining me on my road to self discovery!

First Saturday Arts Market

A couple of weekends ago, I had the good fortune of having a day off on a beautiful spring day. As everyone who has ever lived in Houston will tell you, days like that are few and far between. Deciding to take advantage of the day, I had the pleasure of visiting the First Saturday Arts Market located in our Heights area. The outdoor market hosts different vendors each month, though many are repeat offenders and have become as familiar to us as we have to them with our frequent visits.

I have been a lover of the arts for a very long time and visit art related events whenever time and my budget allow me to. This visit was one of the most rewarding ones I have ever had.

On that beautiful day, I enjoyed a wonderful and unique flavor of shaved ice (I had the pomegranate and Blackberrys, with actual Blackberry chunks visible!) It was delicious, it was in an attractive cup, and it was a great conversation starter and attention grabber for myself and my companion. Many of the vendors wanted to know where we had gotten the shaved ice, how it tasted, what flavors we got, and if we would be holding on to the flower shaped plastic cups, and what we would make out of these cups…the conversation was lively and long and thoroughly enjoyable!

We browsed through several shoes, admiring their work and I was even able to take pictures of several of the pieces (with permission from the artists of course). While I couldn’t bring most of them home with me, I would like to promote their work in my own small way here, so here are a few of my loves from that day! 

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The red abstract was titled “Birds of Paradise” by LeeAnne Domangue and completely took my breath away! I really wish I could have brought that one home with me

The work with raised medium of flower on blue background was done by Joella Guaraglia Wheeler as was the painting of the flower in four tiles. I loved chatting with her and finding out about the different mediums she has been working with. Incredible person and an incredible artist!

The elephant was titled “Layered Beauty” and was done by the same artist that made the painting of the Wolf, Christina Todaro. Every artwork by her was exquisite both in detail and in imagery. She had journals covered in this beautiful art as well as several prints. For anyone who likes this art, I definitely recommend her.

I also had the chance to admire and eventually purchase some lovely pottery that day. I bought a gift for a friend and brought the rest home for the family. These beautiful pieces are all handmade and look great on my kitchen table! Thank you Delafield Pottery!

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The crowning achievement of the day’s adventure to the market came after all this uplifting beauty. I became the proud owner of an absolutely inspiring painting titled the “Uphill Climb” by  C.S. Ellington.

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The story behind this painting is quite intriguing. I first saw the painting back in November, loved it and couldn’t afford it. The artist told me how someone had approached her for that painting asking her what it meant shortly after that but she hadon’t been able to reply simply because she didn’t yet know. After contemplating for a few weeks and taking the painting with her to several markets she realized what it meant to her: choosing the hard path because it is the correct one even when a different path would have been easier. 

In her own words, “It is about choosing the more difficult things in life and how that is often the right thing (to do).” 

Now, I had agreed to purchase the painting long before she explained any of its history to me. When she did tell me all the history and meaning behind it, I fell even more in love with the painting that seemed to portray everything that had come to pass and the crossroads I was at at that point in time. I just knew then that the painting had been mine all long. It was just waiting for me to reach out and take ownership of it. The connection was real.

It inspired me so much that I ended up writing a post on it on a different blog titled Uphill Climb. If you are interested, please do take a look at the story of my Uphill Climb.

We didn’t end the day there but the rest is a story for another day and another blog post. Needless to say, it was quite the invigorating and refreshing experience. For all of you out there that love art, please explore the local art culture in your community. I guarantee it will infuse you with the most creative and intense of thoughts. For those of you who are new to the world of art appreciation or are still on the fence about whether or not looking at these works is worth your time, just give it a try. I did and I have never looked back.

Though I am not an artist in any way, shape or form, the art world continues to be one of the most rewarding experiences life has to offer. Inspiration is everywhere. Art displays often become my muses.

Here is to art, to outdoor markets and to amazing memories! Cheers!