Graduation

Four years ago I suddenly became aware that I was actually responsible for the things I had blamed on other people. Much of my identity at the time was based on the anguish I insisted was caused by others. But now I realized I was the one who created that anguish. I felt defeated at the feet of this throbbing truth. I sat puddled in that defeat for a long while before I did anything about it. During that time I curiously saw my outward life fall with grace into place. I saw profound change in the physical but everything else was limp.

What a fairy tale start to my life in a new city, and yet everything else fell limp.

That quaking truth caused me to loosen the desperate grip I had on the things I thought I knew. I had nothing else to grasp. With my body less tense my angels could do their thing. I safely moved from Florida to New Orleans, found a job in the art world and moved into the perfect little house (which would evolve to be my greatest work of art). I also stepped into a polarizing, one of a kind romance. What a fairy tale start to my life in a new city, and yet everything else fell limp.

That giant truth was accompanied by another gradual but suddenly solidified revelation: my earliest creative works were worse than I could bare to admit, trash actually. I was suddenly able to see my immaturity as an artist. I felt that my work was akin to a kid in a sandbox and that the way I moved through life and relationships was as well. I felt pathetic.

That’s what change can feel like though. When the things you've used to qualify your life begin to crumble, what else is left to stand on? I had to sit in my ruins and comb through the tangles, brush off the dust and start again. What I later came to know about those years I spent as an adult-sized baby artist playing in the sand, is that I was planting seeds. Or better, seeds were being planted in me. I was open and didn't really have a reference point for what was "good" or "bad." I simply created. The path I would take to unite with my voice was being paved and at the same time I was living through stories I would later write about.

I had to sit in my ruins and comb through the tangles, brush off the dust and start again.

Four years after meeting with those giant truths, we've reconciled. I've sat with them and we talked it out. Those years continue to teach me and at the same time I have stepped fully into a new iteration of the magical fairy tale world I found before, except this time I'm awake. I'm alive and all my senses are tingling. My antennae bounce around and pick up on the wind and whirl, the foam and ripple that is creation. Not only have I made my greatest artwork, but I get to live in it, love in it, stretch in it, cook, contemplate and share timeless moments with extraordinary people. I thank the younger me for having the courage to carry on. I thank the divine spark, the life force for doing the dirty work, for handling everything on the back end so that my mental had time to catch up and calibrate.

Written by Kenniese Franklin