Welcome to my cozy little corner of the world. I am writing to you from the tiny kitchen of my temporary one-room apartment. The air outside is getting crisper, the leaves are swirling across the sidewalk & the evening sunlight has that magical cold golden tinge that turns every moment cinematic. Autumn is by far my favorite season. It's the one time of the year I truly feel at home within myself. I can't exactly put into words why that is, but it probably has to do with a strong sense of renewal. Summer always feels like a blink, a blur, a mountain of fast-paced memories. Its counterpart - winter - feels like a long, dark, serene slumber. Spring & autumn - the transitional seasons - give me a very visceral, tangible feeling of change.
It seems like all I've been doing is change lately. The pace of my metamorphosis has become so rapid that I had no choice but to fully surrender myself to the tides. As I sit here reflecting on it, the timeline becomes clearer. I am able to identify exactly what has changed, how far I have come. When you're in the middle of it, you can only see the next gap to fill, the next problem to solve. It is a productive state, but it can quickly become exhausting. I understand the arrival of autumn as an invitation to take inventory.
I have started inviting the world back in. It was a massive step for me & I have to be honest, I immediately lost my footing. I used to enter a room and would immediately get swept up in everyone's emotions but my own. I had zero protection mechanisms or ways to conserve my energy. I would just dissolve like an effervescent tablet. What a lovely word - effervescent. A more romantic sounding version of fizzy. I just looked up its meaning and it relates to both liquids and people. And that is why I journal - to have these Aha-moments about myself.
What I will from now on refer to as my effervescence is a gift & a curse. It allows me to explore an endless galaxy of emotion in my life and in my art. It makes sunshine feel like liquid gold on my skin & rain as if god herself is crying tears of relief. It turns the most mundane moments into spectacles. My childlike eyes light up with joy at the sight of a butterfly, the scent of pine needles or the taste of lemon zest.
My effervescence also makes me highly susceptible to addiction. Either as a means to fuel my vivid imagination or to dull my senses so I can endure the overwhelm that goes along with being inside my head 24/7. Resting is difficult for me. Most evenings don't feel like a gentle slowing down, but more like trying to pull the emergency break on a freight train.
I am touching on many things at once in this journal entry. Ultimately, what I want to do with this blog is find a way to communicate with the world that decelerates. Ideally, this is a place you can come to to breathe. Because that is what I am getting from writing these words right now - a bit of breathing space.
A million things are vying for our attention everyday. I find it hard to filter, to select what I truly want to engage with. Ever since I started sharing my music again, I've had this gnawing feeling that I am just adding to the noise. Autumn is the season to put it all on mute. To re-center. To be deliberate. To be intentional. When I consume noise, I become noise, & my effervescence turns into an amplifier for creations that have no substance.
When I turn my curiosity inward, that's where the worthwhile pursuits lie.
