neither this nor that

For every high, there is an impending low. For every moment spent elated, there is one spent in consternation and confoundment. For every elevation, there is a valley. There is a plummet. There is a crash.

There are instances where every weight feels lifted. When you’ve never been lighter. When you’re falling. Flying. Gliding. A temporary oblivion, oblivious to your rapid approach to the earth. “[F]alling has always been a weightless freedom,” says John Honor Jacobs, “punctuated by a harsh reminder of gravity.”

There is a constant tug of war between the Thinking Brain and the Emotional Self. When the sadness is thick and overwhelming, the Reasoned Me knows that it will pass. That it will thin. That it will fade. But the Feeling Part of Me doesn’t believe it’s true. It believes that the light will never rise again. And yet, when it does, how quickly the Feeling Me forgets the dark and thinks that it has passed for good. That it has been once and for all defeated. That the sun will shine forever, uninhibited.

The Thinking Me knows better. Knows that both day and night are transient. That both are brief. That both are short-lived. That seasons come and go. The only thing constant is the changing.

This is the life of a creative. Vacillating between winter and spring. The darkness and the dormancy. The slow reach of blossoming green. Neither this nor that. Neither end of the spectrum. The wholeness of the two. The unity of disturbances. The particle and the wave.

P.S. Some of my art work is being featured in the Final Mega-Issue of a Magazine called 46 Pgs (you can also find them on Instagram here). They also asked me to create a few pieces to help promote the final issue. One of the two pieces might be one of the best pieces of I’ve ever made. Hope you like them!

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