I saw a light come on in the darkness one day—I can’t remember if it was before or after the time I couldn’t figure out where I was going, when I got lost, after I freaked out, or before, but I distinctly remember lying in bed and staring at the wall and realizing that I had hit rock bottom and it was up to me if I was going to pull myself up from the deep dark hole, or die, I guess.
Did I pray? I think I might have, but basically, Life showed me an Opening in The Blues.
And after that, I knew I could lift myself up. Or maybe more like, if I listened and did the work I had to do, the energy that sustains my breath, created two children in my body, and spins the earth day and night, would keep me alive and even happy.
That’s the true story of An Opening in The Blues.
This post is the 2nd in a series of writings inspired by the titles of my most recent wood assemblages.