DAY 565

in {and out} Week 5: Art

As far as I am concerned, all things produced by a person who cultivates imagination and explores self-expression in a determined way are art. Maybe I think that because I truly believe that creativity is a gift that we all share and can enrich our life once we start to accept this to be true.

Indeed, the appreciation of beauty that is an essential part of this artistic or creative nature is not something related only to those who are proficient in one field or category of art, but to many human beings that have decided to live creatively.

Of course, there are difference between a talented artists who know techniques or tools typical of a given discipline and persons who only transform little things in their daily life, but those difference are about the magnitude of the creation, its impact or relevance, not about the core of the action or its deep sense.

Since I was a very little girl, I was clear about those facts. I saw (I still do it) art and artists everywhere, even deep inside me. I was fascinated by great masters, but also by the inspiring responses to the challenges of everyday life. I remember being lost in the allure of some classic paintings, in the illustrations of my books, in words (either in the way they were formed and in how they sounded) , in the subtle spiral of a seashell or in the delicacy of tiny stitches equally. I remember also, going through my days paying attention to imaginative images, ideas or sayings, to any dose of skillfulness or inventiveness, trying to emulate them because it made me feel alive, fulfilled.

My fears about future, mediocrity and about my own talent prevented me to start an artistic career (something I dreamt of), but never led me to despise my vision or my own creativity. I only (!) kept it as a secret for a long time.

However, as soon I started to know myself better and to be true to myself , they emerged like a storm long time repressed. And while I went deeply into that determination, I realized that creativity was here to stay.

So from some time now, I am empowering my creative self, my ability to see and create beauty publicly and I am seen how the artist who lives inside me is blooming through the art of living consciously . It´s quite rewarding but what I find even more captivating is the very unique connection between this inner journey and creativity that goes in both direction. In short, the more creative I am, the more awaken and mindful I feel (and vice versa).

I know I´ve been lucky because I always had the capacity for feeling that way and I have been able to preserve it throughout all my life. And for this today, I am grateful. Because I am now who I always wanted to be and maybe, even much more than I would have ever imagined.


This entry is part of a project I am developing with my friend Montse Gallardo. We´ll share a photo every week during 2015. Her photos will be always taken outside and my photos will be indoor shots only. We have created a Facebook page: In and Out. 52 weeks where you can see all the photos of the project.  

DAY 541

leap of faith

And suddenly my heart did what I thought was not possible.

I am not sure how or why this exactly happened,
how or why it overcame the gap between what I wanted and what I was able to do,
between what my soul was whispering and what my mind was ordering,
between prejudices and what I knew to be true,
between disillusion and hope.

But it did it. It opened its wings and took the sky without prior notice.

It left its place, the little room of my chest without hesitation,
it chose to fly and opted for believing,
for realizing an old yearn which was telling it that there was something bigger, better.

And by doing that, it broke my limited mind frames,
my shields and my bonds,
my links to what I was giving for granted.

Only to find out that my skepticism was indeed, lack of love,
lack of love disguised as arrogance and need of being perfect.

My skepticism was indeed fear,
fear of trusting my life, myself,
fear of showing my vulnerability.

My scepticism was indeed resistance, even when every single cell of my body was longing for surrendering.

I was not brave enough, you know, but my heart was.

How or why it managed to raise itself and shake my world, I don´t know. But it did it.

And by doing that, it stirred up a new passion for life,
it created a new sense of self
and changed completely the way I deal with my time here.

At this moment I am living in this place named now just because my little, tireless, heart lifted the veil which was preventing me of seeing and loving what is.

Could I be more lucky?