Yet Another

In the first months of grieving, feeling so lonely and barely there, insomnia running rampant at that time, I recount an experience I had while walking into our home office, partially my studio space, and seeing all of the unpredictable and incomprehensible artworks I had made over the past few months, finding life in them and, in that life, a sense of comfort and connection.

 Yet Another
(restless night in the winter of 2021)

At an hour far too late to still be considered night;
a limbo between states of what was and still to become

looking longingly around the apartment,
beaconed by red neon light,
my workspace invited me in

Stepping inside I noticed something new...
something had shifted — within myself or within the space,
I had finally found the essence of what I had been searching for... longing for...

a calm and quiet comfort was patiently waiting to hold me and keep me company

the light softly caressed my skin
as I let the feelings give their embrace
and fully wash over me

I looked around at what was asking to be found
What surprised me? What caught my eye?

Stunned and baffled, I realized what it was:
This room felt so . completely . full . of Life

some held up with mere pins on the drywall,
others chaotically sitting, strewn every-which-way
on top of the converted sewing desk... the printer... 
tucked away on the floor;  

whole pieces of purely // Me

Each piece, a reverie
offering tangible visible proof 
of breaths taken, 
emotions felt, 
and moments of simply...
Being

Proof that I was alive
Proof that I had been existing

Existing as more than what I had done or could do for others
Existing in ways that I had not yet allowed myself to even imagine

I was there, I had been living
Life had continued on 
I // had continued to Live