the art of living
It should be so easy. Listen to your deepest desires and the rest works itself out.
I don't want to live mathematically: calculating, in black and white, with one right answer and too many wrong answers. I want to live artfully: listening to my body and dedicating my life to what feels good.
I'm inspired by the Impressionists who made beauty of everything ordinary with colour. By artists gone mad, presumably because they felt too much, loved too strongly, and wanted in too many ways to express themselves. If I go mad like this, then fluff my pillows in the white room with barred windows, and make my straight jacket look haute couture, I'm moving in.
I don't ever want to feel chained down by obligation.
There is no rule that says I must stay in one country for so many years. No rule that says I've got to think in numbers, understand politics, and believe in a higher power. I want beauty. I want foreign landscapes, latin lovers, several careers, and a bottle of wine in my suitcase.
I want happiness, in whatever currency it's available.
I want emotion, at every inappropriate heart wrenching moment.
I want to listen to my body and follow my feet.
I want to wear fine fabrics that make me feel beautiful.
To love what I love passionately and embrace my own world. To feel pain, and become stronger. To see people underneath their tough exteriors.
I want to stop making excuses. I want the world.
I want to make an art of living, and be able to scrawl my name proudly at the bottom.
I don't want to live mathematically: calculating, in black and white, with one right answer and too many wrong answers. I want to live artfully: listening to my body and dedicating my life to what feels good.
I'm inspired by the Impressionists who made beauty of everything ordinary with colour. By artists gone mad, presumably because they felt too much, loved too strongly, and wanted in too many ways to express themselves. If I go mad like this, then fluff my pillows in the white room with barred windows, and make my straight jacket look haute couture, I'm moving in.
I don't ever want to feel chained down by obligation.
There is no rule that says I must stay in one country for so many years. No rule that says I've got to think in numbers, understand politics, and believe in a higher power. I want beauty. I want foreign landscapes, latin lovers, several careers, and a bottle of wine in my suitcase.
I want happiness, in whatever currency it's available.
I want emotion, at every inappropriate heart wrenching moment.
I want to listen to my body and follow my feet.
I want to wear fine fabrics that make me feel beautiful.
To love what I love passionately and embrace my own world. To feel pain, and become stronger. To see people underneath their tough exteriors.
I want to stop making excuses. I want the world.
I want to make an art of living, and be able to scrawl my name proudly at the bottom.
posted by Gillian Young at 3:37 PM
4 Comments:
Go, Gill, Go!
Love Kate
Today I had a croissant for breakfast, and I thought of you. I think heading to Paris will be an unbelievable experience, bratty kids and croissants included.
I didn't know you were a Vancouver girl. Thats really rad. Vancouver is a bit of an off beat place. It's so bland, with a total lack of real culture. People are always trying to compensate. Oh well, I suppose you can never have too many totem pole snow globes.
Take care.
This post reminds me of me, of how I use to live...how I want to live again. How everyone should live. I printed this out and have put it in my journal for inspiration.
Your writing is brilliance.
This post reminds me of me, of how I use to live...how I want to live again. How everyone should live. I printed this out and have put it in my journal for inspiration.
Your writing is brilliance.
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