Love and Art, confusedalarms . [snow like ashes TXT] 📗

The ache is always there. It accompanies everything I do, be it eating, reading, sleeping (which I do very little of these days) or attempting to escape it by means of brainless entertainment. There is a hole in me, once filled with joy, laughter, affection, and yes, love. No, scratch that. The love isn’t gone at all, it’s still very much with me. One could even say it is stronger than ever, and that the ache is caused by my inability to act on it. Love is soul communion, and the soul I communed with has deserted me. The worst part is that before I loved I was able to savor all the joys of life just fine. The love simply enhanced them. Now that the love is gone one might expect to return to the previous state, but no. All that is gone, too. Something inside me knows this is only temporary, or at least it’s supposed to be. That’s what they all say, anyway. With each passing day though, it becomes harder and harder to believe them.

Please don’t think of me as bitter, or a cynic. I love love. When one is under its spell it’s like all negativity has fled the world. Periods of contentment and peacefulness are interspersed by moments of passion and euphoria. It’s no wonder that, having experienced it and then had it taken away, most people spend their lives looking to find it again, with varying degrees of success. When taking an overview it’s easy to see that the dreary, no-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel state I currently find myself in is well worth the sublime period that preceded it. Sometimes I lose the overview though, and I despair.

And that’s when I turn to art. Art, I’ve found, in whatever form it may take, is the one thing that endures no matter what mental state one is in. When taking in art, or creating it as I’m doing now, I transcend my earthly, primitive, selfish self and find that all the misery of lost love I’ve described in the previous paragraph is tethered to that self. So my advice is this: When all else fails, turn to art and find your solace there. For though we all must turn to dust at some point, taking our earthly feelings with us, our art endures, hopefully to provide solace for others in both present and future.

Text: confusedalarms
Publication Date: 07-14-2015

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