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Mesmerized

minute details.

By Andrea SturmPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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Branches from the ground beneath the tree, old floral foam, ribbon, lights and brown packing paper.

Mesmerized

Was observation a gift or a curse, she wondered. All the minute details, encumbering her mind, were they useless, useful? She pondered. It is true, the small things often are transformed from her imagination, she thought. She wondered, what will create the larger transformation? Not those that resemble the brown paper that was cushioning the items shipped in a box that wraps an old floral foam which is held in by branches and a ribbon, no glue needed.

She pondered about glue for a moment. Glue a term that has been used interchangeably, glue that holds a family together, is a person, a feeling, a place or the glue that school children eat, is it that glue? The glue that is used to attach old cereal to paper which too transfers love. Perhaps, glue is a synonym of love, since it too binds people, families and human acts of kindness.

She thought about the sense of angst she felt when confronted with witnessing or observing a situation, a scene, an interaction that she could not prevent. Merely an observer. She wondered what it is she is meant to do with the observation? That knowledge of a moment in time where she was helpless to do no more than merely observe. Frozen perhaps, by its horror, in place. She wondered if she too were still stuck in those observations of human tragedy that she was merely a witness to and how had they changed her life?

She bound the images to paper. She thought she could release the observation out into the universe so that the molecular cells of the energy could finally dissipate into the atmosphere. She believes that all cellular structures vibrate on a scale that is undetectable by most. She wondered why she was even aware of their vibrations.

In the ritual of releasing the words that flowed through her self-conscious, she returned to that place where tragedy fell before her from a balcony of a building on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago in the 1980’s. It retained such a vivid memory, she prayed that this act would cause the spirit of the cellular vibrations that remained earthy bound to simply disappear, a woman ended her life that night. She had been mesmerized by the sight of her falling gracefully from the balcony through the sky into a bed of roses which had been pristinely manicured. She prayed for the soul of that woman who too must have been holding pain.

She now had found the freedom too now that she disbursed the words. She found her freedom in a much different manner. She typed her pains into the pages that will disintegrate into a lost library of decades of human acts of love and hate. The years of time transform all art, some fades and other art becomes vibrate, alive, relevant.

In that moment of release, she felt a sense of being lighter than she was before. Excited about the possibilities she rested. Knowing that a lifetime of pains could not be dispelled all at once. She realized that she must move in ways of creativity. She knew that delivery to an audience needed more refinement since Afterall one might never read these words to a child as a bedtime story, but there is room for creative elaboration and artistic license.

The words had instantly transformed a sense of grief into a sense of offering lessons and stories of morals, hope and light. In these moments she discovered what it meant to truly transform through art. It was an exciting journey she had embarked upon and her pains began to disappear. As if she had held a secret for decades which is now free to roam the universe, it was never her secret to hold. She wondered again if the trait of being highly observant was a blessing, a gift or a curse. She had her answer. It was like any other ingredient in any recipe, it is how she pursues to use her ingredients, she thought.

Moving forward to her vision of her American Dream, she thought of the open space layout for her dream home. She began to visualize the layout and design plans. She began to fashion her dream home in her imagination one nail, brick, wooden beam at a time. She sent those thoughts out into an abundant universe. She was free of her earthy bonds. She too found hope in the minute details.

healing
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