White Poem
"You wear your pain so beautifully. You're like a poem waiting to be written."
Monteau dress // Swell gladiators // GoJane earrings from
I've acquired this observation that enduring pain develops a person more beautifully. The adversity faced creates a tough layer of skin glowing with an unsheltered perspective and greater depth of understanding a darker reality. A broader vision with coarsened eyes unknowingly transforms one into the eloquent observer who articulates her hurtful experiences into expressive quality of art. The most beautiful work I've seen or read were by writers who have overcome the darkest and toughest of times. The best way to stay sane was to vent it out but still remaining secretive of the personal issues, and art provided that specific form of outlet. I found writing as my escape for the times I felt like I was hopelessly drowning in acute depression. Those times gave me an unwarranted sense of self-expression and my mind would wander into a foreign abyss of profound emotions desperately searching for words that would accurately grasp its state. I've found that the more pain I felt, the more beautifully I expressed it. I'm not saying that all great works are attributed to pain, or that pain is justified because quality work is a result. But I've personally observed that people found others more beautiful or thoroughly attractive by the heightened experiences they have endured because it creates character depth and substance.
It wasn't up until lately, though, that I've come to this realization. I've spent a good portion of my life being on that side of life--experiencing unfortunate circumstances that have creatively shaped my heavy heart and expressive mind. But now I've reached a point of near-perfect content with how my life is and where it's going, and in turn, I've lost that spark that once ignited my intensive writing. It seems as though people are less interested with what I have to say because it's far more exciting to listen to a sad soul and the triumph achieved than it is to read about someone who is living day to day happy and content. I can't help but feel hollow with no new perspective to offer--a shallow pool of cliche moments.
It may just be a phase, an adjustment period of self-reflection that needs a refreshing new flow of creativity. Maybe I'll find my new form of inspiration and turn positivity into eloquent words and vibrant visions.
Photography by