This week has been a blurry blah blah blue blunder week.
Ah well, that is okay.
I have begun to believe that merely gives me the perspective to see the spectrum of a bad week vs. a good week. In each blah, there is a yay.
The Ballet of the Blahs and Yays fascinates me.
Tonight I made a shoebox of my life for a class and had such a time of it! Hence why it is currently 4:06 am and I awake.
I made mine have two portions: on the top of the shoebox are two blocks of buildings representing NYC and on one it reads PRESSURE, on the other FAILURE. In the foreground, there is a tombstone reading GRIEF, RIP DAD. On the bottom is my name and the number 12 (a cosmic number for me -- magical even), Mama (for obvious reasons), and gifts (for I feel I have been given several).
Then when you open it, there is a phoenix head on the other side of the box (now the top) and two wings, each with CRimson, ORAnge, and ceruLEAN. I have a picture of Wicked, Darkwing Duck, another tombstone emblazoned with my Dad's initials and mine (to indicate that grief and I are friends now and my Dad is always with me), a Harry Potter statue (because I love it and to indicate I am a Seeker), a Sandi Patty picture, a Hallmark logo, the words ALMRACERO (this is a new word for my voice I created), CRORALEAN (the name of the phoenix and a colour combo), CREATION, JOY. I also included two quotes that I will share with you:
(This is the opening of my liner notes for "Playground of a Phoenix)
Hasidic teaching says there are three ways to mourn:
through tears,
through silence,
and by turning sorrow into song.
That is beautiful and true.
The other is written by me:
In each of us there is the power to arise from the ashes and bravely begin anew.
The top portions of the box are the instances that have haunted me from the past, the inside are who I am now and a representation that I am a phoenix and am perched for flight.
Ah, life is something poppets.
I need to floss more again, fallen off the wagon a bit.
Serendipity.
Dustin
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