Freedom

There is a place where my freedom is pure, where my freedom feels wholesome and true. There is a moment in time void of any shackles, no tethers to bind the seeds of creativity, I dance with my muse on the pallet of raw ether. 

When I have overcome the heady mix of rules and rigid systems, I dive into my imagination for a finer feel of the moment. It was a painful courtship, I had to learn to trust the wondering thoughts when they darted off in new directions. "What would they all think of this?" I was cautious when giving free reign for my mind to carve its own magic, now I'm ashamed I hadn't liberated it sooner. 

There are no borders here where my mind walks. The once before coloured lines are bleeding there, rigidity. One worlds limits, fade into its strength. No longer are the waters that surrounded that dessert island barriers, they are the bridges of libation that buoy that thirsty logic. I didn't take so well to the ruled paper, I failed to see the freedom in prescribed thinking, while I offered up my intimate thoughts to the art, it coloured my pain with joy, it augmented the beauties and contextualise the struggles. It was through words that I could see the unseen and draw from my feverish nib, the majesty in the wild congestion of me restored youth, ripe with hidden story.

The mason has earned my respect again. The artists who dare to free their inner dialogue through a beautiful rebellion of colours, sounds and taste, these are my brothers in arms. The vanguard of honesty, of purity, of freedom. When the barriers are whittled down, creativity floods into the untouched corners and feeds sustenance and light to your greatest strengths. Share with us your power, join the brotherhood, lets rise into the beauty of unlimited possibility. 

Written by The Blissful Nomad

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