We are given only a little spark of madness. We musn't lose it.
Words to live by, don't you think? If only people understood me more. Does anyone else out there struggle with the fact that you stand in your own power? That your spark of madness, your ache to be who you know you are inside of yourself, is too much for the rest of the world to take...
I always thought that saying less was saying more. You probably don't think so after my last really long post, but for me, the excitement of last weekend overtook me and I wanted, nay, NEEDED to share the love. Today I learned that by not sharing personal information regarding a painful experience I had that people who were closest to me have made judgements against me. I thought by sparing people of the gory details, my side of the story, they would appreciate my desire to keep my personal business personal. Not so. It's disheartening but doesn't tear me apart.
I am loving people from a distance, in my heart, without speaking I am asking them for forgiveness. I am recognizing that anything I experience, no matter how ugly, is mine to own. Madness? Maybe. I believe in the goodness of humans. We falter. We all just do.
I am a renegade dreamer, full of power. Artist extrodinairre. Ex-wife. Mother. Friend. Teacher. Blogger.
**The picture is from my restaurant in the 1940's or 1950's. Feel free to print and use it in your art. I am fortunate to have many people drop off old pictures of this place. The three ladies photographed were some orginal waitstaff members.