Member-only story
How One Woman Chose Art
There was once a woman who lived a seemingly ordinary life. Her days were sometimes good and sometimes bad. She lived an imperfect life like humans do.
What set her apart was her art. She saw the world through different eyes that were expansive, introspective, and dreamy.
In her daily walks in the forest, the woman didn’t just see trees, she experienced them. In her eyes, trees reflected a larger network and a dynamic force that was interconnected with everything. The trees was what she aspired to become; rooted but free to grow in every direction; nurturing but resilient; alone but part of a supportive community.
She saw her self in everything, because her mind was art.
She usually picks up a paint brush and paints whatever her imagination dictates. She paints the trees, the sun, and the birds. She paints the wind, and the clouds. She paints her emotions. She paints her thoughts. She turns her entire world into art. This is how she experiences the world, and makes sense of it.
Her art wasn’t just a pastime hobby. Her art embodied her being just as much as she embodied her art.
She often felt misunderstood by those who didn’t share her vision. Some people thought she was too dreamy and unrealistic. Others thought she should find something more worthwhile to do. But art to her was like breathing. It made her feel alive and complete. It helped her process her emotions. To her, art was a way of life that made the most sense to her being.
To some people, it’s difficult to understand why this woman would be so invested in using her paint brush, and living her life a little bit differently. They may wonder why she doesn’t do presumably more important things. Because she loved spending time alone to make her art, she was judged. She felt conflicted and worried because she didn’t want to disappoint anyone.
But she knew it’s normal to be misunderstood. She knew that everyone had different eyes and saw different things, just like she did.
She saw others as art too.
To her, art was not supposed to be perfect. Art was supposed to mean something.
She discovered that she experienced the world in a unique way that not every one will understand…
