creative outlets

Release me, release me, set me free.



I'm a rather visual/metaphorical person. I often time visual my emotions. There are pros and cons to this.

The last few weeks have been quite gloomy. I kind of felt like I had a permanent raincloud over my head that never seemed to go away and fail on my part. I had no umbrella or rainboots to prepare for what I was going through.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

Given, I wasn't doing my part in the situation. I was sluggishly accepting what was happening to me. I was losing the battle. A once foreign concept to me. I almost always have a little fight in me.

I was lacking in writing. I even had a good friend, well I kind of consider him an older brother, try to subtly tell me, "Hey, this is what you should do."

Non-committal, commitment phobe or layman's terms, "SHE HATES COMMITMENT."

This is something I hear rather frequently, almost jokingly. Until, I stayed at one of my highschool mentor's houses the other night driving through Oakland and I explained to her how I'm being and she replies with "Some things just don't change."

I was taken aback by it. This isn't a funny joke anymore.

Rewind a bit, back the the older brother figure. He simply told me, "It always helps me to write it down, just to get it out."

Now, you know those phrases "When I say this; I really mean this"

Him and I were discussing the day but what we were really getting to was a more understanding of my life.

He was right. Stubborn Sam just continued on though. Not even a crack open in my journal.

As days pass, my slump increased.

Until, this weekend.

I would like to call this a prison retreat.

There were pros and cons. Essentially, from Friday night until Sunday afternoon, I didn't even come close to leaving my apartment.

I hardly got out of bed.

But in the back of my head, I had this image of how I was feeling. What it was doing to me.

It needed to be released.

I was suppressed. 

Friday night, I get home around midnight and I was up until 5 am-- laying the groundworks for a painting/art journal on canvas.

Saturday, I was at it again.

Once, it was released and understood visually.

I felt weight being lifted.