Over the next few weeks I am going to show how adoption has colored my world through my art. Through my photographs, poetry, sculptures and paintings I have a voice and all reflect my journey.
Art has allowed me a form of self expression (my soul’s voice) that I believe otherwise would have remained quiet and thus very damaging but instead this inner voice has become my muse- a form of healing.
I am a Jack of all trades-Master of none. I have had no formal training which gives me the distinct advantage of creating with no obstacles. Of course it also means these forms of self expression may not be that GOOD but art IS in the eye of the beholder. I never have been all that great at coloring inside the lines.
When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is
to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.– Marcus Aurelius
~This is how it should feel~
~This photo is out of focus which is appropriate when combined with this poem~
And even the sun
in dawn chorus sings,
a celestial melody to the earth
I’ll tell you how the sun rose,–
A ribbon at a time.
The steeples swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran.
The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun.
Then I said softly to myself,
“That must have been the sun!”
But how he set, I know not.
There seemed a purple stile
Which little yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side,
A dominie in gray
Put gently up the evening bars,
And led the flock away.