The older I get the more learn that almost nothing is black and white, defined with clear lines and boundaries.
I approach life first as an observer, watching the game played by other people. Those people know the rules. I still don't fully understand the game yet. I wait and watch, hoping the lines will be defined, waiting for my time to jump in.
I look to my surroundings for answers, for hard lines seperating right from wrong, appropriate from inappropriate, the right time from the wrong time.
The right, kind and gentle words from words that will bruise and scar.
What I find is that there are no strong, clear lines.
There is no seperation, really.
Only things juxtaposed against each other in tension and balance, one thing creating the other.
Trees against sky
Sea against horizon
Husbands and wives
Parents and children
All existing in delicate balance with lines undefined
There is freedom and empowerment in life experience, a gift of wisdom that makes searching for perfect lines and moments a less important piece of the puzzle
Sketchy, blurred lines make up the content of our lives.
Who we are on the inside isn't always who we reveal ourselves to be on the outside
What we do to make a living and earn money to take care of ourselves and our families
doesn't always refect our passions.
Where our inner world meets our outer world
Where our understanding of each other conceals and reveals itself within the blurred and sketchy lines that live between frustration and compassion
Life is sketchy.
But there is revelation in the infinite space of that blurred edge that gives way to so much beauty.
Where relationships between forms
and between people
take shape and make sense.
16 x 20 Acrylic and Graphite