Reflections Of My Life

Artwork by Tosha Michelle

PicsArt_1428258514208“You can’t stop the future. You can’t rewind the past The only way to learn the secret …is to press play.”

“If people refuse to look at you in a new light and they can only see you for what you were, only see you for the mistakes you’ve made, if they don’t realize that you are not your mistakes, then they have to go.”
Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large — I contain multitudes.”
Walt Whitman

Change is an organic thing that that happens every minute, every day, and everywhere. We as people are not meant to stay static.  We may grow up but we should never stop maturing and expanding our hearts and minds.   We shouldn’t be held captive by the past or how people perceive us. We create and radiate our own unique way of being.

In some ways we are always changing but yet staying the same.  When I look back at the me from yesteryear, I still see the same quirky, awkward, random, sentimental girl. I also see a woman who has a wealth of experience, who has endured illness, heartache and loss, but also experienced wonderful life-altering adventures. My journey has taken me out of my comfort zone and into a world of growth and enlightenment. It doesn’t hurt that I have been blessed with the love and unwavering support of family and friends. These people teach me so much every day.

I still process information the same way, but experience has altered the way I interpret that information.  Every day reveals a new layer of character. The years are teaching me and molding me into a better version of myself. I embrace getting older and look forward to one day being a, “wise old soul.” Emerson said “As we grow old the beauty steals inward.” What a beautiful sentiment.

A work in process is what I will always be. I’m still evolving. I hope that never changes, even as I change. However, I know what I stand for and who I am.  Uncertainty has no place in my inner world. It’s a gift where decisions become easier, temptations become less, and confidence grows stronger.

Beautiful Disaster

 

 

 

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He hides his coldness behind a mask of charm.
His true intentions only to disarm.
Lies escape his lips
That never tell.
He plays the game so well.
He is an obsession
A handsome vision
With one glance you’ll be smitten.
He’ll wrap you up tight in his contradictions.
Fanning the flames
Of your incineration.

Poem, music and artwork by Tosha Michelle

 

Upon a Time…Once.

My cover of Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams

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Sublime Ends

Remember at the station, waiting

On the train, on that sultry summer day?

We stood lost in an embrace, breathing in

each other that way. that awful, terrible,

perfect mad and delicious way that took us

to the shrouded place.

Remember at the station that day, waiting

on the train, as the wind hummed a lovers tune?

She sang of sublime ends, from supple beginnings.

the alluring medley of serenity in a war of rhyme

on the sharp bloody edge of Neverland and Narnia,

the peaceful enchanting interlude of rage & myth.

Remember at the station, that day, as

the train churned closer and we cussed goodbye

His steam a prelude to our eternal kiss, the sun

soaked, never ending fuel of light, of love, of

heat. Basking and bathing,

merged and emerged and submerged,

Dancing and swaying in time

with golden chariot and the huntress.

Remember at the station that day, as

the train tugged away, on a endless track?

We gazed as it came — as it came — as it went

through the crossroads. We did not know,

our own separate, distant destinations,. Our own

rail-less wild paths cut into unimagined mountainsides

You to the west, me to the east.

Remember the station that day as

the train, conducted our last kiss?

That gaping wound where our lips met. Where

we learned cruel fate is hot love and all love is

the calamity of UN-armored battle. We all go under

wrong or right. Each of us blankets miles and the ground

is nothing but a shifting litter with irascible iridescent hope

and hurt-dulled dreams, unfulfilled plans and schemes.

Remember the station that day, waiting

in twilight until we forgot and traveled on, and on

alone, with only prayers of new Twilight to set

in stony slumber with hard solace of old loves loss

then found again.

-Tosha Michelle

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Random thoughts, music and more of my artwork.

Song of the day.

I’ve been in a non stop creative mood. The muses are strong with me. Creativity in overdrive. I want to write, to paint, to make music….there’s a vitality, a life force, and energy, moving within me. I want to transform ..to move…to BE.
I’m such a dork!

This is my cover of Sting’s Fields of Gold.

I won my first ever Gabie. The category.

The Krispy Kreme award

such an honor. (tears) 😉

Sexual Healing. 

Sex shouldn’t be a commodity or used as leverage or bait.
It’s shouldn’t be a means of exploitation or slut shaming.
It should be consensual and physical but not one dimensional
For me it’s spiritual, soulful,-a expression of life and love.
It’s emotional-rooted in commitment and true intimacy.
Society encourages us to settle for less
The media, music, television, tells us sex is just a feel good feeling.
Pleasure alone.
But true fulfillment comes when we combine the physical with the emotional.

This is just one flawed romantic’s view.

“Your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul.” ― Charles Chaplin

“We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in the slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
C.S. Lewis

Artsy

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Artist

The Art of the Matter.

Is there a proper focus for understanding, and evaluating, the arts? Which is more important, the characteristics of the artist, as Tolstoy would have us believe, the actual work of art itself, or is it how the audience appreciates the art work?  We might argue that art is about all three of these potential interpretations and that each plays a fundamental role in what makes art, art.

If we were just to look at the artist and his, or her, perceptions we would have to consider that there were different elements up for debate; the first one being the intention of the artist, and what they were trying to convey through their art. Our concerns arise here when the audience interpretation of the artist’s work is different from what the artist was actually trying to say. Does this invalidate the work? We could argue that it does not, and that most critics would say that as long as the audience gets something out of art, then it has not been created in vain. However, this begs the question of should we even consider the artist’s intentions? Further, if we then discover new facts about the artist, should they alter our perception of the artist’s work? For instance, the author of Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling, has said that in her mind one of her characters if gay.  If one now goes back to re-read Harry Potter but still does not identify the gayness of the character, should we then just accept the artist’s views? Or, is it reasonable for us to assert that we do not perceive the character as gay? We would contend that is reasonable to assert that we do not perceive it. Art is subjective, and we believe that it is within the subjectivity of such aesthetic works, and the illusions that are conjured up in art’s mysteries, that hold the enchanting beauty of its magic. The fact that two people can perceive something entirely different from the same piece of work is, arguably, a dimension that demonstrates a free will that encourages us to, somewhat obliquely, consider the Robert Frost poem The Road Less Traveled: and how taking the road less traveled makes ‘all the difference’ to our journey.

 Another dimension of art that is up for debate is the social content, and what role it should play in art.  Some would argue that knowing the meaning, and the message, that the artist is trying to convey with their work is the crucial element of understanding the work. Some would contend that it is this dimension of art that gives the work its vitality and soul. Others would assert that the social content should not be the focus, but the art work itself. 

Some would offer that it should not be about the artist but the art work and that, social content, and therefore, arguably, cultural values, are not an important factor. However, the acknowledgment, appreciation, and awareness of social content in art, we would argue, can enhance an aesthetic work and, possibly, take us to a deeper level of understanding: recognizing the humanity in art is vital to understanding the humanity in ourselves.

Margaret MacDonald, an artist herself, had a lot to say about art.  She felt that to fully appreciate art one had to become an active participant in the art itself. She felt that to just merely look at a piece of art and pick out a good, or bad, feature was to miss the bigger picture. She argued that it is not, simply, enough to just pick out what we like, and do not like, about a piece of art, and that to do this  limits us: the limit is manifested in that we will, eventually, in probability, run out of things to say about the particular piece of art work. 

MacDonald writes that there is always more to say about art, because art is always evolving and changing. The meaning of art shifts through time because the interpreter changes.  A piece of art can mean different things to different people at different times in history because the appreciator also experiences change and evolves. That is to say that someone who is reading Hamlet today, perchance, may not interpret it the same way as someone reading Hamlet during Shakespearean times. Or that the Mona Lisa smile does not change, but over time our interpretation of her smile can change: the De Vinci code drifts JL. According to MacDonald, the best way to enjoy art, and feel art, is for the interpreter to put a part of himself, or herself, in the art.

Critics of MacDonald would be quick to point out that she puts too much emphasis on the interpreter and not enough on the art itself and that it, arguably, cannot be the case that whatever one believes about a work of art makes it a truth.  Which is more important then, the tension between the interpreter and the art or the artist intention? Why does either one have to be prioritized as more significant than the other, or more important? Why can art not be a collaboration of both the artist and the appreciator? After all is it not an aesthetic impulse to interpret art after we perceive it?  All dimensions of interpretation, we would offer, seem equally important. Art for art’s sake is a nice concept, but art should be shared and appreciated by all of humanity.

Tolstoy wrote that ‘Art is a human activity which has as its purpose the transmission to others of the highest and best feelings to which men have risen. Nietzsche argued, in The Birth of Tragedy, that art was the only justification for life. Perhaps if we, subtlety, bring the perceptions of these great writers together, for a moment, we can see that art is a shadow dancing within in a silhouette in search of the possibility of a harmony for humankind.

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