Crashing into my head as I snuggle into my pillow – the scene. Me listening to your struggling lungs, hollow eyes into the night – I fell asleep only to waken to an alarm and unaware you had left. “You don’t deserve to sleep” – my head upon my pillow and the scene played out in our bedroom…again… I couldn’t believe that at some level I’m holding myself accountable for your death. I did my best to keep you comfortable and going… Don’t leave me…
But you’re gone. All gone. And now this yoke of creativity is pressing down. I don’t have to prove to the world your work was intricate, born of genius and worth something. That by doing that will validate your whole life. That’s not up to me to do that. You lived your life as you saw fit. That is your gift to this world. I dont have to prove it – shout it out and make people listen.
However it ends up that your work is given to the world – I will have done my best and the release of all your creativity – is all done… it’s there it’s an active moment caught in canvas… having joy, and fun and life and experimentation, evolving…
How to take advantage of the time I’m living? How?