Tag: art

Posted on

The World is your Canvas: A Letter to a Graduate

mortar-board-2-1551255-639x852You made it! And I couldn’t be prouder of you! The work that you’ve done, the lessons you’ve learned, the character you’ve built, were not feats attained overnight. You worked for every one of them. Both your mistakes and your achievements carry great value and contributed to your success today. Because of both of them, you are smarter, wiser and stronger than when you first began this journey.

And still, your journey is far from over. This is not an era that has ended but a new chapter that is beginning – a new chapter that will be filled with its own challenges, hardships and celebrations.

Honor your moments of hardship and challenge for that is when growth and learning is best achieved; and revel in your moments of ease, you deserve them!

It took Michelangelo 4 years to paint the Sistine Chapel… a lengthy project for one ceiling. And one he was not excited about taking on initially. The technique he used, Fresco, was a new art to him. The work was back-breaking, literally. He encountered multiple set backs in the process. And sometimes, he had to ask for help. Anyone who has been to the chapel can tell you that its exterior is simple and unassuming, not the venue you’d expect to hold world-famous art for almost 500 years.

Don’t be fooled by unassuming people, many of the world’s most brilliant minds are housed in the simplest of appearances. Have humility.

Not every project you take on will be exciting or one you feel perfectly suited for, take it anyway. Growth comes with challenge. And new experiences sometimes yield surprising results. Take a chance.

Greatness is not achieved by mediocrity. Don’t ever stop working hard.

Complacency leads to the death of the spirit. Don’t ever stop learning.

And never mind, the physical aches and pains that come with old age and hard work- It’s the strength of the spirit that moves mountains.

 

The world’s greatest accomplishments are a balanced combination of talent, hard work and opportunity: Uncover your talents, search for opportunity, keep trying- even when you fail and don’t be afraid to ask for help.

 

Like a properly balanced palette, there is a use for every hue. Highlights and shadows require different colors and placements but are equally important in a piece of art. Every part of you has a purpose. Both the good and the bad, the light and the dark, can be used to better this world.

Use the goodness to achieve more goodness, the world needs it!

And use the bad to understand and to improve yourself and to sympathize with the shortcomings of others. But do not let those shortcomings or other people define you.

Be yourself and give the world someone to reckon with. You are Amazing!

Have respect for yourself and for others. And uphold honor in all the things you do. Power and intellect mean nothing if your morality is lost. Don’t be afraid to stand up for what is right, even in the face of adversity. Don’t be afraid to be alone, if being alone means standing with dignity.

The world is your canvas and your palette is endless, paint the hell out of it!

And don’t stop painting, don’t stop achieving, don’t stop reaching, until incurable physical fragility makes it impossible to pick up the brush.

Then, and only then, will you be lowered from your platform, to lie back and look up at the immense and beautiful art you’ve created and appreciate it for all of its complexity. And you’ll realize it was all worth it.

Your vision is your own…go pick up a brush and make it happen!

stills-of-an-artist-s-world-6-1546356-640x480.jpg

This is an amended post first published on 6/17/18.

Posted on

Words are like Flowers and Writing is my Vessel

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“Writing is the painting of the voice.”-Voltaire

Writing is the vessel in which I sail my inner workings across the ocean of life. It is the  carrier of my thoughts and ideas, stories and lessons. It is the way I am heard, the way I share.

Deep within the matrix of our minds, thoughts and ideas are formed. Like trapped birds, they are released as the spoken word. Despite their beauty and complexity, each sound, each word, lasts only seconds before it’s gone, flittering into empty space. Though the message may linger, the words themselves are fleeting and seem to dissipate into thin air. The spoken word is easily forgotten or mistaken.

But ink that leaves a pen remains, permanently inscribing the words its master dictates. Thoughts put into readable form, the written word is a record. It’s a document. It is not the mumblings of a drunk or the talking in ones sleep. It is intentional. And it never lies or forgets.

When I talk, often I feel like a bumbling fool … awkward, disorganized and redundant. Words pour out of my mouth like children off a school bus … clambering and loud and clumsy. And my thoughts and ideas are often misconstrued and misunderstood.

But when I write, I am like a well choreographed dance. Every move rehearsed, every step cautiously placed, every word carefully chosen. And the words flow together like movements, creating a beautiful piece designed specifically to carry my message.

Words are like flowers. When I write, I walk through the most bountiful garden, hand selecting each blossom with careful and purposeful intent. Arranging the words into a bouquet, each arrangement is unlike the one I made before it. Each flower holds a unique purpose and aroma to the ear. There are no bad flowers, no bad words. And I yearn every day to discover a new variety, to uncover a new specimen to place in my piece.

Like every artist, my art, my bouquet, is not always appreciated. At times it is overlooked and ignored. Not unlike the painter along the sidewalk, the musician in the subway, the dancer dancing in an empty theater. But if only one person enters that theater, the heart of that dancer becomes full and she is no longer just a dancer, but a performer. When art is recognized, the artist gains the greatest fulfillment.

And yet, even without an audience, without a buyer, without coins in an otherwise empty case on the floor – those strokes, those notes, those movements, those words, are therapy for the artist. They soothe his soul and at the same time, they make him come alive. They are his heart and he cannot walk away from them. They are a part of him.

The highest honor is knowing that my words have touched another soul, hearing that my message has spoken to another heart. Feeling as though I have made a difference, I am fulfilled in my work. Like the chosen carrier of precious cargo, I feel worthy. I am grateful for my talent.

But even without recognition, without payment, when I put my pen to paper, it is therapy for my soul. Kneading through my angst and sorrow, the darkest part of my life, like clay, I create a sculpture of my life that is beautiful. And looking at that sculpture, I see how I have turned misery into joy and pain into lessons and I am proud of who I am and from where I came.

Life is a journey and each of us, an artist. We are handed a canvas and asked to fill the world with beauty. Be that canvas, a pot in which you cook, an instrument from which you play, earth in which you plant, wood from which you build, hearts of which you nurture … use your canvas to create beauty. My canvas is paper. And my paint, is words. Thank you for receiving my words. Thank you for taking the time to smell the flowers, to hear the notes that my heart sings, to feel the energy that my soul releases.