Tag Archives: art

To See The Wiz

the wizWhoever says that Art doesn’t matter, that music, television and the many facets of entertainment don’t add to the culture of life, those opinions are from the unfeeling, from the unmovable.   Today I had a heavy heart, my thoughts were of my feelings of non belonging, and a lack of a feeling of peace and home. I tried song after song to lift the heaviness from my heart, but none did the job, I wrote line after line, of poetic prose, to just feel lonely and lost. Then the words of Home, from the musical “The Wiz” crept into my mind and I realized that those were the feelings I was having. I may not have ended up in OZ, but I might as well have. I don’t have the designer shoes to click but I am on a journey.

Before I knew it, I was visiting Netflix and entering the title, and before the opening credits had concluded I was had already began to feel the tension in my neck subside. I sang along with tune after tune.

Each song seemed to touch a place of understanding in me, “You can’t win..” , opened my eyes and before long, I was easing on down the road. I could feel myself remembering with each verse, that the only way to make it out on the other end of this journey triumph is to do what the words were telling me to do. “Don’t you carry nothing that may be a load.”

The past regret, the lost battles have been daily stacking on top of each other leaving me beneath the rubble of my ill gotten attempts at change.

I listen to those around me tell me to put my feelings in check, and I rebuke their attempts to drain me of my passion, my emotional tie to the world. It sets me apart, what if I was like the tin man, allowing myself to become rusty beneath the days past, what if I don’t feel the tug at my heart of today, it will leave me stale, and arrogant, as if bad days don’t come. My strength is not just in my tenacity but in the understanding that being a survivor is living.

The scarecrow, reminded me that no day is full of complete knowledge, each moment, each experience is for me to learn and evolve.  If I listen to those crows tell me that I can’t win, that I have to give up on my own ideals and belief, I will never make it back home, to my feeling of serenity and peace, because home is nothing more than a feeling of belonging, and support and love. On this yellow brick road, I’m on a journey to make it home, to retrieve my courage to be myself.

That lion, he touched me the most because I may appear strong, and full of the right words, and ideas, but I fear my desire to be loved and accepted, and I have lost my courage to yet again get up. It feels like I can’t win, like I can’t make it back this time, yet I still possess, my heart, my courage, my brain, and my belief. When the road is hard to travel, when the days seem full of obstacle after obstacle, we forget that the Wiz, is always there… I just have to kneel and humble my self and pray. I have to find my inspiration, find my faith in the reminders that I am not the first to stumble, and fall… but I have all that I need to get back up again.

The Oz I reside is full of familiar faces without unfamiliarity of who I am … but that’s okay because even when the setting changes, I am still the same woman I was when things were bright and full of promise, and this is still promise, another chance to build a heart of character knowledge. The empathy I will possess, the sympathy I will be able to exude, are the things that will give me success.

I will encounter my own Evelene, and even get lost in the devils poppy fields, but these are just moments, the destination is still there waiting for me, and I choose to keep going, and I can say.. Don’t bring me your bad news.

A brand new day is just the beginning of another opportunity to make this day a day better than yesterday. No one can take me from me, as long as  I continue to believe that I am worth the journey.

It may seem small like just a musical, just a list of songs, with well-known actors, but it was my therapy today, my comforting arms, my friends, and reminder that Nothing is forsaken and without reason


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June 8, 2013 · 8:50 pm

The First Day after Inspiration

To be inspired is something that runs beyond  the moment of being inspired but the beauty in  the work or the action. I have heard that the greatest of success is not in the wins, the victories or even in the acclaim or recognition. It’s in the beauty of the power that loving something so much can emanate the type of personal interest in doing that you touch the heart of someone else to move, to try, to risk. The possibility in greatness is a value of love not ability or worthiness for so many great people worthy of award,  of change of second chances lost the game. The game of living is cold, harsh with policy unknown to us. We have gifts, talents, that a lot of us don’t use do to fear, circumstance or even just like of belief in the power of the gift given.
To lose belief in anything is tragic and worthy of streaming tears yet to lose belief in your own gift, your own power is the thing that settles in the belly of your spirit. At the other end to revive belief in  the belly of a gift lives the trust in it, the hope for it and the need for it to breathe to live,to grow and to show your stuff. A little bravado is not ego, and is needed.  The beauty in having that bravado means that you are courageous and have the guts to make a change, to stand outside the normality of conforming and really really finding the fight you need to truly finish the road that you must finish,
All the mediums of creativity in this New World calls for different tribes of warriors to do the work of good, to promote the messages of humanity. In finding the journey to courage we must be open to change, to experience, to failure and to the unexplainable. To be inspired to find true and give true inspiration you must be available for the miracle that it is. To allow the rush of cool to tickle your skin and hear your heart begin a thump of thunder that resounds echos in the tunnels of your ears and you are motivated, rejuvenated, you are emancipated… you feel as tho the shackles that bound you to your fears, to your deprivation of thought; of action; have been shaken loose. Leaving you pink with desire, the fire burning so deep within you it glows touching the very essence of your soul. When the soul illuminates it’s shine will allow light to seep in to those dark places that ricochet that light in to strangers and you know it’s at that moment that greatness has begun. That kind of beauty only comes from the bravery of love. That love that closes doors late into the night hiding kisses wicked with lust, adoration and respect is so very parallel to the love of your belief your goals and your dreams. For to desire to do one thing with your life is a true love affair that does not know wrong doings, or keep account of disappointments and strives on nothing more than hope, and honesty. As I speak of endlessly an artist is a thing of passion a progress of commitment and bears the heavy beauty of exclusivity and monogamy.
I fell in love a long time ago before my first sentence was completed before my heart was broken before I lost my belief in the beauty of bread being healthy. I feel in love with feeling the edges and centers of white college ruled paper and using colored pens with inks they fill the rainbow with thousands of strokes and before words were a reality I just waved it until it began to make a pattern of the vibrations i could not articulate on these rough edged tablets of my thoughts. I knew what it was and how it worked but I had not found the way to do so. Then I was writing and it was the most love I had shown to anything and as  a woman beginning I was ahead of the game yet so sure of my desire to dirty those little white sheets of heaven. As years passed I began the descent of the humanity  of dreams… The human understanding of child like beliefs. That adults do and children dream. My pen became a hobby but the law was the lucky answer opposite doc in primary school and I accumulated to the likes of the group instead of the fire in me. Like most of those in tis world who create they experience and my experience caused me lose belief in the power of individuality and I just wanted to be accepted and it was weird unatural to want to write in the 2nd grade and I traded it for whatever felt best the second time around if dreams really never became more than day dreams. I still see myself in those part time suits litigating for the unprotected and saving souls and lives. It really is a cop out for still being afraid of nobody liking the things I write, of not completing the work that I wanted to finish but believing in myself. Things got better with help of friends reading and then loving it and of course believing the hype is kind of hard when they all love you anyway but there was a nay sayer of me that became a affirmative definite and concrete believer of my words. He was not my friend and definitely didn’t have accolades of me personally yet one night as he laid in the bed next to my roommate with her heart running circles around his aloof relationship behavior I began to rant of their “Situation” and the end of the foggy tunnel that seemed to engulf me he said words that will stick close to my idea of perfection in confirmation left me wondering thinking if talent was not objective or subjective in totality yet a lot perceived emotion. This has nothing to do with what I really want to say what I really want to express. Yet to explain where it began is apart of the power of what I do want to reveal.
…….I have been inspired and moved to believe in the power of that love affair with my words with the emotion behind them. I have always been a words girl, always been about the books the cover o cover the path of turning pages and being impressed and moved by the settings described with description. To be just shown as with film and the way it within the reader becomes a vision of those words. It is an experience and active. Tv is of the different sort, it is a vision of another’s perception and their discovery and vision. No active partnership. Yet with the premiere of Dawson’s Creek I began to see it differently as JOey and Dawson with great emotional scenes and large and beautifully spoken words it took me in and without fail I watched each episode twice premiere night with great enthusiasm both times. I became a Creek addict and with its ending I shed true tears. It was a transition an acknowledgement of a life changing. No other show evoked my loyalty for many years… My best friend had begun to watch a show and she was hooked and telling me about it.  I had seen previews and quick show reminders. Still I didn’t give it chance…. And while I build up to its revealing I will say this before hand. This show has rocked my soul yet my soul had not been awakened not just yet allot of life happened between those beginning days of its run and the present days. For I had begun to watch at the very beginning of a change in me. Yet a woman in transition yet again may not be ready but I watched and enjoyed but never really watched. Yet my slow warming to the inhabitants of Tree Hill, North Carolina was well on the rise in warming my heart. Another alter change for life began and we lost touch me and my new friends. ON returning to life it began its true decision to the very core of me. Then like the moment that ultimately changed my vision my world my heart, it became something else and it was a true place to explore for every single episode that I watch it literally rocked me to tears. The music, the truth, the honest and the reality of life had been given to a place of fire. Not the fire that burns and destroys but the fire that lights and warms. One Tree Hill the little TV Show on the CW had begun a gate of feeling a level of moving minds and should to the understanding of love and love had just met me, just saw me with open eyes and had definitely just begun to embrace me. I had fallen in love and then suddenly that dynamic even in life had allowed me to begin to stop having a fear in so many things. As my lover, my friend began to hold a new mirror clean of my smudged idea of myself to me daily the idea of love for anything once again became a possibility and if you ever had the privilege of watching this show then you can understand. So as in  the way of inspiration I have been inspired. After watching the seasons I had missed I fell madly in love as I had with the man who reminded me that life is a living experience that can give you all that is needed to make you see yourself differently  through eyes of unconditional love. I am working on something that will in my high hopes of myself be something that has moved the heart in away that is eternal…..

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