High Art it's not. But it's just not, not all the time. Some comic relieve in challenging times ;)
p.s. that's its belly button, okay?!
And this is what I found in my morning pages early today:
“It’s crushing that I can’t find much beauty; see much beauty (because I know it’s there!) these days. I’m not in ME. I’m not ‘BEING’, I’m existing. I’m not PROCESSING things. I’m still – pushing everything away. I can’t seem to help myself, because I know it doesn’t work! I’m shovelling snow onto myself to – quieten I suppose – but I end up looking from the margins of ME, wondering why the hell I look & feel like a snowman!
[...But] this heart I drew over copious amounts of smudged & messy vermilion ink is proof that - there is something inside. Something is trying to push through. I feel like I haven’t got a clue left, but then that bloody, messy heart happened! It just happened. And I’m not going to call it ‘breakthrough’ because I don’t know where it came from – but it’s proof that my SOUL is still there, somewhere... whispering stuff I can’t quite hear!
So, bring it ON!”
And I am well aware that this is not exactly 'sharing love', at all. But it's heart, and soul. It's where it starts! Facing fear is where (self-) LOVE starts... & that's why I'm feeling brave enough to share this, anyway.
I think it's hard because I'm not used to integrate being me with seeing me. When you look at someone else, you see their features as much as their actions, their words and your own thoughts of them.
I am, to myself, my thoughts, my emotions, my words and my actions. But not - not really - my face. When I look at a picture of myself, I find it almost hard to believe that it's Me. That this is what other people see when they look at me... It makes me feel - out of my depth, even naked, of sorts.
Oh, this is fascinating stuff to ponder! But also, ever so slightly, disconcerting...