I have been trying to make it fit. The dress is beige and two sizes too small. I don’t like the dress or really even want it. It just so happens to have been made by a well recognized designer and given to me by my brother. And, in my mind, if he gave it to me, I should make it fit. The beige dress was one of three dresses I’ve tried on and, as much as I tried, none of them fit.
Art is a scary choice to make when surrounded by scarcity. If lawyers, doctors and dentists keep trying to pull me in with their logical success, how can I float enough to be able to reach art? You have to be willing to let go of the gold, even if it keeps you safe and is shiny, you have to let it go and float.
If I ever commit to sitting for long periods of time so that it eventually helps me float, I have to make sure my heart is in; otherwise I’m out.
I’m in the river now. After all these dresses I’ve tried on and taken off out of sheer desperation, I’m taking a swim in the familiar river. For so long I’ve been trying to go against its current because I thought it was the only way to survive. But all you have to do sometimes is stop the struggle, float and look at the beautiful sky that’s been up there for centuries, just waiting to be admired and always willing to inspire.
And once you float and realize how peaceful it is, you shouldn’t stop. Float, just float.
I don’t know why I kept trying to make something too small fit me. I guess I meant well. The designer gets frustrated and so do I at times. When will it fit? Until the perfectly made dress arrives and I know it’s right. And until that happens, I’ll keep wearing the beautiful dresses that have already been created and have a beauty of their own.