Nothing I seem to write on my new clean page seems to be an appropriate transition into dreaming. It's intimidating blankness, however, seems to be purely demonstrate how I should view my tomorrows from a heavenly perspective. Waiting at my hand to fill it in.
So I'm going to start by sharing some of my art.
I do not know who my words or creations will help, but I have to hope my calamity has brought me here so my story can echo that of my sisters before me who walked through the flames of displacement, and hate, and religion, and identity, and marriage, and eternity, and motherhood, and loss, and love, and grasping God and his Word, and all that seems impossible. Do you feel me?
I do not know who my words or creations will help, but I have to hope my calamity has brought me here so my story can echo that of my sisters before me who walked through the flames of displacement, and hate, and religion, and identity, and marriage, and eternity, and motherhood, and loss, and love, and grasping God and his Word, and all that seems impossible. Do you feel me?
It starts here.
No comments:
Post a Comment