Alice inspired this post with one of her comments, she told me she thought I was already making my dreams come true, which got me thinking “I really hope I am”.
About 4 years ago I was told I probably -most likely- had breast cancer.
It was not true but I started thinking about my life and what I was doing with it.
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| This drawing is from around that time, she’s my “Enana amarilla” (yellow dwarf) |
I had very good reasons and a very long list of sensible excuses to put aside what was really important to me.
I found out that the things I had valued and wanted as a child were the very same things that still held value to me and I deeply regretted not having the time to complete them.
I had wanted to learn to sing and dance but to dance I had waited too long, probably to sing too.
I had unfinished songs and poems.
I felt like I was leaving nothing “done” behind me, something that was valuable to me.
I also understood that values are a very personal thing and that I had strayed from mine too many years ago in pursuit of lofty goals for a greater good that were not my own and had lost myself in the process, I could hardly remember what it felt like to be me before religion or adulthood.
I also realized that dying was something I would do alone and that no one else could do it for or with me when it happened so in a similar fashion living should also be done by myself, and in an even more selfish sense it had to be done the way I valued the most.
So I tried to rescue what I could of whom I used to be when I felt myself to be more creative and bursting with things to say and make. I’m still trying to remember how to make something from that place inside me.
And often I still need to stop and re-set my priorities, because everything else seems so more important than to draw or craft, specially being a single mom.