Last month (and this year) began in the most cinematic way possible – a way that inspired joyous art and life. Then, clouds moved in to rest before the sun – and that shadow was cast into my work. From there, the rain stopped and a fire was sparked, its flame slowly began to grow – and bold, vibrant color – and a desire to live and to love emerged. In life, I want to take chances and to feel, constantly – no longer do I want to live aloof, numb to the world around me. It’s easy to become numb and complacent. I crave excitement and vulnerability.
The art will show you:
You noticed the change.
That change was the result of vulnerability, and despite the darker tone, the results are beautiful, I believe. I’ve felt in my writing as well. On January 18, I composed my poem “Morning Glory” while walking at a park. I had a lot on my mind and ventured out for some clarity.
(c) 2015. Bobby James.
The river flowed beside me, and other people passed me by.
A brisk breeze fell upon my cheeks and wind chilled tears form to line the bottom of my eyes.
My mind wandered to a nearing, not so distant future – and anxiousness crept while birds sang their morning songs.
Bird songs. They underscored a tiny tapping sound. A woodpecker – the smallest I’d ever seen. She climbed the tree – then tap, tap, tap – before flitting down. She’d repeat the cycle – in search of what, I don’t quite think I know.
Transfixed, I watched – lost in admiration, ’til an excited pup passed me by. There was a squirrel rustling in the leaves. At least for that I know the why.
My gaze then shifted to floating clouds. I squinted in the sun. My course changed.
A fork appeared before me. I took the left, over shattered ice – this path became more lonely.
There were dogs on leashes – commanded to heel. For a moment, tails stopped wagging – and passing cars and cracking sticks were all I’d hear.
I moved beyond these commands and took a breath of crisp, fresh air. With my lungs full, I walked on – my face now directed to this story. For an hour, I was lost – in life and morning glory.
In addition to “Morning Glory,” I’ve written several introspective letters to myself (which shall remain sealed, unavailable to all). In the matter of one month, my eyes have been opened – and from a cold, desperate and isolated place, I’m emerging again. That “Spark” was shown yesterday with a quick doodle – and now, I’ll unveil the burning flame and my intentions moving forward:
Thank you for taking this journey with me. My heart is in every piece you’ve seen and all that you’ve just read. February Joy is alive – and its going to be one of the most defining piece I create this year (I have a feeling). So I hope you enjoy it as much as I – and most of all, I hope it makes you smile and feel warm and happy.
I hadn’t set any “resolutions” for this year – and I don’t think I will. I’m gonna wing it…