There Are Some Flowers That Bloom In The Sun Of Green Groves. But Not For Them Is Our Praise. There Are

We are on your Bed watching Movies while I stroke gently through your hair

I had a pretty terrible day yesterday. I woke up in the middle of the night, and my brain was like "Why don't you make a self portrait but make it plum?" So I did. And this is what I landed on. I made this after a terrible day in a terrible year, where I have felt lost and confused. What I've learned while making this is that Identity and Narrative are things you have to give to yourself.

A car just came by and illuminated her face for nothing more than a breathe but in that moment I saw her. In her a beauty that has never before been rivaled or matched. My heart paced faster and my eyes watered and all I wanted was to have my hand on her face.

Decided to make another splice and thought I’d document it. ._.

I woke up with the strangest feeling of loss, grief and regret this afternoon and it's lingered still. I thought of this exchange once when visiting with my parents. I sat at the dinner table in the kitchen while my Mother was making dinner. I was complaining about some problem I had, "I really wish I had listened to my Father." My Mother asked "Why? What did he say?", and I admitted back to her "I don't know I wasn't listening." I thought about Daedalus his son Icarus in the Fields of Asphodel colliding into one another in their grief, both now just souls on the other's side of River Styx, their version of the hereafter. Daedalus holding his son's face in his hands, with streams of tears running from his eyes. "My son I am so sorry" he would say over and over again. "No Father, do not be sorry, it was me I should have listened". Daedalus in his grief and regret "I only wanted you to be free.", Icarus would try to reassure his father despite them both already being dead "I was, I was free, even if only for a moment, from the sun to the sea."

You are like the flowers that bloom and blossom. Even their leaves scatter to the wind.

The artist is so real for making this

I know that my atoms are not mine and that they were forged in stars and scattered across the universe by their deaths. I know that I am a product of bunch of chemical reactions. I know that I will one day die.

I also know that I am more than sum of my parts. That my death, will only be in this body. I will decompose and become apart of everything. I know that my mannerisms will be inherited by those who loved me. Just I have inherited theirs. And I know if there is a afterlife my spirit will live on forever in love and kindness.

But that doesn't make this life any less worth it.

I believe we are apt to see the truth as lies. Lies sometimes are alluring, sweeter to the ear, or easier to believe. We trick even ourselves, justifying them and enabling them. Pain and Anger are the greatest among the liars. They hurt us, so we doubt the truth. We define our Identity by our Truths. I will share with you what I have thought, felt and learned. Love, the complete commitment to the well being and happiness of yourself, another person or people without any condition or modifier. Integrity, the practice of being uncompromised in one's values and actions. Kindness, it is a behavior defined by consideration and concern. It is gentle, and it is generous. We become the truths we believe in. We accept the lives or the lies we agree with. We can choose, more importantly You can choose these things. But do not do this partially, or reluctantly, you have to accept it wholly. It is a challenge and it takes time. I am still learning. But if you allow them to they will change you.