June 2008

I realized today that being forgotten really means being chosen. I have spent way too much time feeling sorry for others and myself whom I feel have been forgotten, when really they were uniquely chosen. This revelation has changed my world. To me it’s like the confusion between the poor and the poor in spirit. Who really is worse off? I have confused the feeling of loneliness with abandonment. These are very different. I have also confused who the one doing the abandonment is. This just goes to show that in my own power I don’t have the ability to stay “on the straight and narrow” so-to-speak. When left to my own logic I confuse things.

Good day. It’s only 5:30 and I could go to sleep right now. Learning you are wrong is exhausting. Being chosen requires action from me, it carries a responsibility. Being forgotten is being a victim, it breeds laziness and resentment. Yikes.

You all should know, I’ve fallen in love.

His name is Amedeo Modigliani and he’s an AMAZING artist. As any famous artist is, he’s dead. However, his art really is impressive to me. I’ll let it speak to you what it will, but somehow it touches deep into my spirit. I feel like he and I would have been kindred spirits. He doesn’t paint things the way they are to our eye. He paints their essence. I don’t see any fear in his painting either. I see a lot of it in my own. There’s always something holding me back, something that I’m timid about. It’s as if the art itself frightens me. I’m too worried about the end product or something. Oh well. Perhaps I will learn something from dear Modigliani. Enjoy!

Landscape. 1919. Oil on Canvas.