From Eyes Open To Eyes Closed, An Artist's Day

A few minutes to sit back, deep breathe, and re-member the reason you are here, artist, picking up the brush and filling your canvas, your world, with color, wonder, and delight. You are here; take up your brush.

Transcript

Days blend into days.

You lift your head once again.

How many rotations around the Sun has this gone on?

You hear the day there,

This moment before it all begins again.

It is all right to feel bereft.

It is all right to feel emptied out.

It is all right to feel let down,

Lost,

Torn from the moorings of possibility,

Left in these shards of nothingness.

For this space of vacuous emptying is not.

Not emptying,

Not vacant,

Not willfully bereft.

You have a choice.

This day blends into days.

The rote rhythm may feel daunting,

The repetition tearing at your heels of courage,

But you have a choice.

This is your reminder that this day of days is yours.

Just here,

Just now,

Just this.

The hours from eyes open to eyes closed.

Commitments,

Demands,

Surprises,

Schedules,

All yours.

How then,

My dear,

Will you fill?

How then,

My dear,

You let them fill?

This is your choice to take this day and call it just another or to take this day and call it a wonder.

Be well.

Go well.

Rethink your best self in this one day here,

Now.

From eyes open to eyes closed.