Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Stretching his hand up to reach the stars, too often man forgets the flowers at his feet. ~ Jeremy Bentham
Week Twelve – Athletic: StretchThe 12th photo entry for my weekly Self Portrait Journal. A 52 week glimpse into the attributes of James Olmos.
There’s a few sub attributes in my Athletic category. I thought it would be appropriate to begin with “Stretch”.
To lay our bodies close to the ground – upon the earth, cement, dirt, carpet or gym floor creates a connection to basics. We find ourselves humbled as we bow, bend and find belief in the basics of presence.
As for me, I find myself, eyes closed, breath calmed and concentration focused on the moment . . . the stretch.
Rant and Side Note:
This photo should post under my “humor” category” since it looks like I have midget legs! This is the result of my creative process as I learn how to enjoy the different pixel abusing techniques. Don’t judge – I’ll get there soon enough
Life isn’t about reaching goals it’s about finding peace during the journey. I put my shit out there whether it’s good or bad because I’m at peace with my creative moments. Let it all go and love yourself today.
At the end of the day all that really maters is love.
We come and go. We dine and cheer. We give and receive.
Did we love? This is what carries over . . . love.
At times we can feel dissonant like a single, out-of-tune piano key. We struggle to resonate in brilliance and to bring a presence of value back into our lives.
Maybe we’ve been played too hard or have been abused by a hand that once moved gently but has since turned harsh. Or maybe the maestro has passed, leaving only the coldness of ivory as we long for his passionate touch to dance over us again.
Regardless, even being slightly out-of-focus or mildly out-of-tune is enough to make us mute our melody, because we hear the false perfection of the other piano keys dancing and bouncing rhythmically. We judge ourselves in the light of their song.
While our song sounds sad . . . always.
What if we embraced our dissonant sound? What if we turned up the volume of what we perceive as imperfect?
Our song is valuable and the dissonant key resonates regardless of judgment. Be differently beautiful . . . be your own song.
This is a photo I took of an old piano that was bound by a chain in a park in Washington State. You can view more of my photography on Flickr.