Grateful

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[Writing notes and planning my new life]

I’ve been letting go of my past and the pain for many years now but it’s only recently that I’ve been able to live without the struggle or the step-by-step mental and emotional recovery. That is what it’s like to let go – to really let go: you just throw yourself out there, take a leap of faith, you keep on falling and hope for the best. It is the scariest thing I’ve ever done but it’s also the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. Life has become easy to live, I can finally breathe again without choking on the fear. The best thing about letting go, is the freedom and time released, time I used to spend on worrying, over thinking things, being tense and feeling anxious. Now I have all this time to spend on designing a new life for myself. A life I want and need to feel free and happy. And I feel so grateful. I’ve had some shitty years and the last couple of years have been a slow and painful turning point – but at the same time, I’ve never felt stronger or more alive. To lose everything made me find new things, things that I never knew I needed in order to feel happy. So I feel grateful that I was brave enough to leave everything I’ve ever known behind and to let go of the past. I feel like I’ve seen the rotten heart of life, now I want to explore the radiant core of it.

There are some days where I feel so overwhelmed by it all. In a good way. I have so much love in my life – real and solid love, I am free to do whatever I want with my life, and I have my health. I just feel so grateful. Life is magical, and I will add more magic to it with my new art.

The stories behind my art: “Out of the Nothing Box”

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From my diary:

“January 13, 2015

I keep forgetting that since I’m so attracted to darkness, it will always catch up with me at some point. I really have to unsubscribe to darkness from now on, it just makes me ill. Nothing good can exist inside the dark, there’s no attractive core, no beauty within the beast, no forgotten heart at the bottom of the pain. The darkness is just a void – absence of everything that feels good.  I am no sun after all, I don’t have the strength to warm the cold darkness until it begins to grow life somewhere. I have been too arrogant as I imagined I could ever create life in a place that’s been cold, dark and dead for such a long time,

We had another painful fight and he just disappeared again. I can’t do this pain game anymore. I’m so stupid, once again I thought it would be different. All that is left is his coldness and my pain. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

I have created two new digital works. It’s been a while since I have been creative at all. I read somewhere that an artist who’s not making art is committing an ’emotional suicide’ – is that what I’ve been doing?

It makes sense but it hurts – for it didn’t have to be this hard, it didn’t have to be this painful. And I can apply that to everything in my life. I have to start making it easier for myself. Everything.

This black fire has gone out. No more games. You can’t play with pain anyway. Today I’m resigning as a masochist.”

Inside and outside

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I feel how I am healing, a little bit more every day. As I become stronger, more confidant, I lose dimensions of my old self. I feel completely naked in front of myself and in the world. Sensitive, like every impression of my new life is transforming into an expression inside my mind, my heart and I collect all these overwhelming expressions inside until I feel like I’m about to burst… They all want to be born through my art, poetry, through my laughter, tears, my fire and thunder I keep inside. It all wants to be unleashed into the world outside myself, as if I am so much more than just a breathing body – a vessel of breathing dreams.

My lungs are filled with clouds and airplanes, escaping wind, butterfly rockets and raindrops. I feel so complete. Loved. Moved by what life looks like beyond the metallic shadows.

I am so much more than I ever could imagine. And yet, I’m just a detail in this world. My new life is all about finding the balance between the two realizations.

Waking up

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It is like I am slowly waking up to a world that feels like mine again. A world where I’m not a guest in my own life, where I am not owned by a man’s will to control or manipulate, a world where I don’t have to be perfect for anyone, not even to myself. I am perfect in every moment, with all my flaws and truths.

I am painting again. I’m not very excited by the fact that I’m finally painting again after all the years of self doubt, blockages and mentally paralysis. It just feels so natural. Like coming home. I’m not even that rusty or artistically in bad shape – but I do get tired easily, almost exhausted, after only a couple of hours of working.

And my head is full of new ideas! They are mostly slightly perverse or at least sexually bizarre. I am dealing with things that happened to me, things that’s been haunting me for a long time. It’s time to get rid of it, and using my art as a place for it to find peace at last. A place to put the humiliation, the pain and the rage at rest. All the forbidden feelings. Or at least, emotions that I don’t welcome into my life. I am not wallowing in self-pity anymore – I’m letting go and moving on. I have to face the victim in me, through my art and recognize that it’s not who I am anymore. I will say goodbye to the Lolita, who was the perfect marionette doll to the men who wanted to feel stronger, more powerful or better than me. I will not seek vengeance through my art, but closure and reclaim my self-value and power.

By just being everything I am.

Wet rabbit hole

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I once told you; “if you’d ever bring me flowers, please bring me dying ones, not fresh ones – fresh flowers is an illusion of something eternal that doesn’t exist, but don’t bring me dead flowers either – that’s just rude. All flowers are dying as you put them in a vase. I crave honesty. In everything.” You smiled and looked at me from your time machine and said I was slowly falling like Angel falls. I couldn’t feel it then, but yes – I am falling through a thousand wet rabbit holes, ancient wormholes, and through my own stinky, dark holes, all at the same time. You show me little pockets of air to breathe through as I’m losing my way and finding it at the same time. Fumbling with the horizon. Trembling as I am falling through the shadows. Rushing through the restlessness with my will, but in slow motion. Wondering, if the light will break every bone in my body when I’ll finally land. Your heart is waiting, I can feel it. Or perhaps it’s mine.

 

The wonderful paradoxes of life

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Right now, I am working with my fear as a guiding light and I am trying to stop avoiding things just because I’m scared or worried, I am trying to understand that the only way to be in control of my own life is to stop trying to control every outcome by worrying and obsessing about it – and to understand that the perfect state is to stop trying to be perfect all the time! Ah, the wonderful paradoxes of life!