What has become of my grief
I’ve moved again recently, and I feel myself rediscovering my grief, what it has become. I’ve noticed over the last two years, that my grief has become lighter, I carry it with less sadness. It is the same grief, but it doesn’t weigh on me like it used to. I still think about my home all the time, but I’ve stopped wondering how I could translate those memories into my work. I guess I didn’t make too many collections because it hurt to, and now I hardly feel the need to because it doesn’t anymore. It’s been difficult trying to navigate exploring my grief without exploiting it, especially since I’ve founded this project on sharing the very real and turbulent feelings of that grief. Sharing my work is something in which I’ve found a lot of joy, but it has, inevitably, become a source of pressure, inflicted on myself by no one but me. I have trouble finding the same joy I used to. I feel a pressure to perform and to share more, to think about what’s next, to always have something in my back pocket. But as I move on with my life, I realize that I’m digging at a wound that’s already healed itself.
I can’t keep myself stuck in the past to keep this up.
I wanted to make pieces in the likeness of a life I thought I had lost. I think about that life constantly, but I don’t harbour that same fear. Thinking and reminiscing has brought me enough solace. In a way, I’ve grown to accept the loss, there is nothing more to lose, and I trust that what I carry in my heart is honour enough. Surprisingly, this supposed distance you feel in moving on, actually makes me feel closer to the way I used to be. Learning to let go is what actually brought me home. Living with my grief in the background, almost as if It doesn’t exist, makes me feel kind of free, like I am living the life I had before losing what I thought was everything. Because now, I’ve learned that there is always more than ‘everything.’ I feel rested finally, and I feel like I can want things again.
Maybe my grief won’t find its way in the ‘what,’ I do, but rather, the ‘why.’ I think, if I’ve learned anything these past couple years, is that, life is unironically short, it’s extremely unfair at times, but it can also be so beautiful, and happiness can be a choice if you let it. There is no better way to honour my grief, than to learn from it and let myself be happy again, to live a life I am proud of. And so, I will continue to chase my passions, and try to be happier doing so.
I will continue to produce and share as I see fit, thank you for all the support thus far.
I can’t keep myself stuck in the past to keep this up.
I wanted to make pieces in the likeness of a life I thought I had lost. I think about that life constantly, but I don’t harbour that same fear. Thinking and reminiscing has brought me enough solace. In a way, I’ve grown to accept the loss, there is nothing more to lose, and I trust that what I carry in my heart is honour enough. Surprisingly, this supposed distance you feel in moving on, actually makes me feel closer to the way I used to be. Learning to let go is what actually brought me home. Living with my grief in the background, almost as if It doesn’t exist, makes me feel kind of free, like I am living the life I had before losing what I thought was everything. Because now, I’ve learned that there is always more than ‘everything.’ I feel rested finally, and I feel like I can want things again.
Maybe my grief won’t find its way in the ‘what,’ I do, but rather, the ‘why.’ I think, if I’ve learned anything these past couple years, is that, life is unironically short, it’s extremely unfair at times, but it can also be so beautiful, and happiness can be a choice if you let it. There is no better way to honour my grief, than to learn from it and let myself be happy again, to live a life I am proud of. And so, I will continue to chase my passions, and try to be happier doing so.
I will continue to produce and share as I see fit, thank you for all the support thus far.