In the top of my closet at the back there is a shiny silver box that rarely sees the light of day. At one time I always traveled with it, but for a time I have not because it just seems to take up precious space and never gets used. Inside this box is a glorious array of pigments and hues, alizarin crimson, aquamarine, burnt umber, sienna. I love my watercolours. Why is it that I have not used them for so long? One of my favourite things is to watch a paintbrush swirl across a page, to see the little pigments in ultramarine separate. I think that so much of painting reminds me of my past that I push it away. Maybe it’s time to embrace the things I have tried so hard to forget and embrace them as memories and experiences learned from.
So often we are asked what would we change if we could go back into the past. I so want to say ‘nothing,’ but that is not true. I have learned from my past and indeed it has made me who I am, but can I really say I would have wanted to go through some things if I had had the choice not to? I do not think today that I could rightly and consciously say yes without lying.
Will the day come when I accept my sad memories and am glad for them? I hope so. But today is not that day.
Well I've never been much for the baring of soul
In the presence of any man
I'd rather keep to myself all safe and secure
In the arms of a sinner I am
Could it be that my worth should depend
By the crimson stained grace on a hand
And like a lamp on a hill
Lord I pray in Your will
To reveal all of You that I can
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