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In the deeply complex contrived nature. About the fragile, tenacious cycle of a family. About the forgiveness and accumulation of the scars. It is a repetition of denying, accepting, and, ultimately, loving. We yet love each other; we, therefore, remain as family, the beautiful and grisly nature.
I position myself as an observer, Navigating the realms of uncertainty, weaving sentiments with fervour. Intertwining varied hues and layers with intention, I embark on a creative journey, defining new colours through invention.
Through the lens of memory, the past unfolds before my eyes, Yet, I am aware of its distance from truth, its veiled disguise. Facts and emotions entangled in a curious dance, Eclipsed by the ever-shifting tides of time’s expanse.
The preservation of emotions becomes a formidable feat, A constant commitment to remembrance, a mission bittersweet. Like a cascading waterfall, memories rush and descend, Their clarity fading, obscured by life’s relentless blend.
Rather than clinging to what was, I embrace the winds of change, Delving into the depths, exploring the causes that rearrange. With curiosity, I unravel the impact of circumstances and connection, Witnessing how they shape our recollections, triggering disconnection.
Acknowledging that wounds can never truly stay pristine, They metamorphose into scars, etched deep within the scene. Whimsical flesh, an artful display of resilience and strife, Transforming once-painful wounds into marks, signs of life.
