Skip to main content

Ecclesiastes 4:4

Last night, this verse spoke directly to my heart.

Then I observed that most people are motivated to success because they envy their neighbors. But this, too, is meaningless-- like chasing the wind.

It is something I needed to know. For so long I have struggled with mixed feelings about seeking recognition or publication of my work. Something deep inside me has held back, and I have not known why.

I have seen what other people do, and I have thought that I should do that, too, and I have tried to do it, but it hasn't worked. Other people get a lot of recognition and attention for the things they create, and I get almost none.

But I have a desire to create and publicize beauty. Whether it's a photograph or a story of my own, or a poem or a painting of someone else's, sharing what I find beautiful gives me joy, and I believe it is good to God, and makes the world a better place.

Perhaps this verse was not written for me, because I am not the person who wants more money, more things, a higher-paying job. But when I read it, it gave me a sense of freedom. It no longer matters to me how much attention or recognition I get, because what I do is its own reward. And the creative work that is not its own reward, I no longer want to do.

Popular posts from this blog

Cassandra stood poised at her vanity mirror. Her long hair, which spilled past her waist, was twisted in one hand, and in the other was a pair of jeweled scissors.

As she lifted the scissors to cut, a larger hand wrapped around hers. Cassandra withdrew with a cry. "Kell! I didn't see you come in." He took the scissors away. "I take it you got the job." "I did," she said crisply. "Return my scissors to me." "Not if you intend to cut off your hair. What do you mean by this nonsense?" "I can't have long hair in the laboratory. It might catch fire or something." "Look there." He guided her to the window. Below them lay the scattered remains of a centuries-old city park. The benches were near invisible due to growth, while the pond had extended far beyond its original boundaries. Ducks floated serenely on its surface. "We played as children. Do you remember how you prized your hair?" Cassandra laughed a little drily. "Of course. I insisted all my powers as princess lay in my hair. I was haughty. unworthy of the friendship of you and your sister." ...

Where does it lie

I look out onto the yellow and brown vegetation beneath my window, at the castle-like buildings far away and wonder where do I lie in all of this? There was a time when I was unfettered. This was a time before I entered the working world, before I was independent. My heart was free as a bird when I was in college. I did not know what happiness I experienced in my creativity because I had never known different. In other aspects of my life I knew pain but my stories, sprung up lately from a gothic mist into an immersing Pre-Raphaelite painting, were a richness and the most beautiful thing I had ever known. That the most beautiful thing I knew to exist happened inside of me made me very happy, even though I didn't know it. Now I know the sun is setting, even though I can't see it, because the bank of brown, twisted trees and shrubs is lit gold, like a reflection from a golden chalice. Slowly, slowly it will fade until everything is a homogenous, uncertain gray. This is the nightma...

Josian

Josian (DikaDoll Kay) is currently sporting the Edward Cullen-esque wig. I photographed him amid the pokeweed, ubiquitous here south of Fort Worth.  I have had Josian since July of 2015. I am currently reading Evermore  by Alyson Noel and have been feeling some YA fiction vibes lately.