A couple of months ago there was a fire in the foothills near my home. It scorched one of my favorite walking trails. Two weeks ago I finally managed to get out there and explore. What I saw wasn't my familiar trail, but a changed landscape. The area was so rocky. The fire had burned the tall softly flowing grasses that hid the rocks. Those unusual stumps and decaying logs were left as piles of ashes. I could now see how the trail wound up and around the mountain slopes. With the grass and some of the trees burnt to cinders I had a clear view into the distance.
I thought to lament the loss of my favorite trail and the feelings I associated with traveling it. But then I realized I was fortunate to be given a perspective that was unique. A view into the underbelly of this area. This rawness, realness, not dressed up and served on silver was this piece of earth I thought I new but had only bothered to glimpse it at the surface. Things were different one level deeper but I hadn't seen it.
I experienced the process of the transformation of an artist to be like this fire. Things are painful. They are stripped away. You're left raw and vulnerable but there is something real, new and elemental about what's left. It the essence of who you are.
This wasn't something to grieve or bemoan, but a place to begin a
new, refreshed. Once I learned to re contextualize my experience, I could see the path in front of me more clearly. I could begin to grow again.
Posts
