A Spark

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We gather inspiration in the strangest of places, those of us who fancy ourselves artists of sorts, myself included. I may not be able to paint, or draw, or sing like I used too, but my mind can create worlds that are unlike any I’ve ever physically seen. Sometimes I can see words and worlds inside structures and a story begins to form. Something as simple as a run down building or home on the side of the road can spark a slew of words running through my mind. Artists are often referred to as “mad” or better yet passionate, and even more often are misunderstood and unaccepted because we don’t conform the way others wish we would. My grandmother accused me of being schizophrenic once because I had such a vivid imagination, I never truly believed my imagination to be real, but it was fun to wonder “what if”, although some would say that “what if” is a trap or a rabbit hole if you will, we can easily fall down and never climb back out. 

When we find ourselves in misunderstandings or not being accepted for who we are, it can spin us into a depression and make us feel lonely. We long for connection, we long for others to know us and see us as we see ourselves, but mostly we want to be accepted. I think that every now and then we get very lucky. We find others who are like us or we find someone who does accept us no matter how mad or passionate we may be. We all deserve an Alice in our lives, who will see the Mad Hatter within and embrace that side wholeheartedly. If you ever find yourself shaking your head at someone and thinking I just don’t get it, ask yourself why it matters and then open your eyes to seeing who they really are, maybe they’ll be a spark.

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