BE STILL, MY FRAGILE HEART

BE STILL, MY FRAGILE HEART

Whilst I was drawing this piece the one word that kept coming into my mind was ‘fragile’. Over and over again, I couldn’t think of anything else. Fragile, fragility, at risk of breaking. This was what I was consumed with. I don’t know why, I just was. I remember thinking how fragile she seemed, so delicate, so soft and I knew with one wrong stroke of the pen she could crumble. It was as if I watched her age in front of me, youth into wisdom, smooth, fresh supple skin into weary and lived in. Beautiful and endearing, all at once. Into the trance I went and watched her age before me, until the last line of shadow was marked out.

I’ve said many times that Art is my therapy. Getting locked into a piece and having that transfixed state take over heals me. It makes me think. It makes me feel. It reminds me to forgive myself, for being so harsh on myself for years. It reminds me that I’m here. It shows me growth and teaches me that cracks and breaks and scars are beautiful, and they are what makes me stronger.

This piece may not say any of the above to you, but it does to me. And that’s the thing about Art, the most wonderful part of Art, how it can speak to so many, in so many different ways. And every one of those ways is valid.