beneath the starry sky...

...the elephant sat.

So I've been in a strange mood lately.
Ever since my Jnior recital was over on Tuesday
(which went very well by the way).

The art I've been creating lately is a sure sign
that something different is stirring in me.
It's strange.
It's just coming out of me like it has to,
like I have no choice but to move my hands where they feel to go.
It's all abstract, and yet, strangely satisfying.
Beauty has changed form in my eyes.
It's not all sunshine and flowers,
smooth tonal music and pure harmony,
smiles and laughing.
Beauty is in the shadows,
in the strong overpowering wind,
in the grey clouds and in thunder.
It's in pain.
Or rather, in the emergence of hope
after pain dissipates.
Beauty is imperfect.

I can't describe these changes.
There's a letting go,
a "hands off" sense I can't contend with.
I don't want to contend with it.
I want to keep my hands off,
or at least loosen my grip on life
and let go of the form I think it should take.
Let go of the shapes I think it should make.
See it purely for what it is and be in it.
Be fully in what life really is,
not waiting every day
for the picture of life I've created in my head to emerge.

Where is this process taking me I wonder?