Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not.
When you have constant creative ideas and thoughts and banter on how to transfigure them into the physical, it can be maddening when there is a very minimal outlet utilized to release such a mindset that only one who endures a similar aspect of themselves could ever entirely sympathize. My own metamorphosis throughout my creative journey has endured me with this struggle. At one point in my life I abandoned my craft for fear that with all the intricate moving parts of my life at the time, it would slowly turn my passion against me and I was afraid of resenting what I love to do. It took many many years to reintroduce myself to the most familiar and constant thing I have ever had. I was a painter and thoroughly found peace with myself and my surroundings in the studio working through my sacred sketches that would slowly encapsulate who I was on a beautiful sleek and freshly primed canvas. I always felt my spirit dance as I disarmed my paint brushes and my soul was so ever at ease when I dipped them in carefully chosen color palettes.
Present time may have appeared to preclude such timely lessons, yet this tender curiosity that dwells within me has awoken from a deep slumber and I have found a kindle to my passion. Different mediums may have changed with its execution, yet the same exact feeling is evoked. Creativity prevails and my lesson was not that I am not capable, but that I am worthy to consume myself with the very thing that makes me whole again.