Last Friday I gave an artist’s talk in a dear friend’s home about the ten fine art pieces that I have hanging in their living room gallery. The exhibit as a whole is called, “The Journey to Bliss”. Throughout the talk there was give an take with everyone and myself exchanging the role of being the audience.
Attendees read poems that they wrote using my art pieces as inspiration, spoke of their like experiences and offered their insights on art, love, life and ultimately, bliss.
It was an exchange of ideas that helped me grow in ways I imagine I will still be discovering for some time to come.
Well, the very idea of bliss itself. During the talk, I was asked how I would define bliss.
Today I was listening to a Ted talk about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and when they spoke on our need to be part of a group, something struck me that I hadn’t realized: Last Friday night I was standing in the midst of my bliss. Or at least one of my blisses. It turns out that I have a few.
But back to the one I was in on Friday. The bliss came from a very simple, but easy to overlook thing.
I was part of a group of people that individually have amazing creative energy that only increases when together. It was also a group that I hold in high esteem in general.
The bliss came in the shape of the sharing, learning and expression of ideas and life concepts.
It was a validation of a lifetime’s worth of decisions not to be the person I was raised to be, but rather the person I chose to be.
One person referred to me making that choice as a form of rebellion and when I thought about that later that night I realized that she was right.
Thinking about it, I clearly remember deciding as a teenager that no matter how hard they tried, my parents couldn’t make me be an a**hole with the same kind stubborness most kids apply to insisting no one can force them to take out the trash.
It was the kind of choice that set me on a journey full of missteps, misunderstandings and a fistful of heartbreak.
But it was one that allowed me as an adult, to find the kind of people I always wished I could find as a child.
I’ve heard it said that we never lose the role we had as a child. It stays imbedded in us in some way, shape or form for the entirety of our lives. I can see the truth in that.
But more so, I can see how it’s possible to find those moments that make us feel whole and worthy.
I speak freely about these things, because I know you may be someone who hasn’t found your bliss yet and it’s important that you know the road is hard, but the view…
…the view is more magnificent than you could ever imagine.
More importantly, you need to know that no matter where you’re standing right now…
…it’s possible to get there.
NOTE ABOUT THE IMAGE ACCOMPANYING THIS POST: I call it “Glass Half Full”. It is intentionally ambiguous as to whether the glass is alcoholic or not, because we all search for or hide from our bliss in different ways.
It needs to be said that the very fact that my artist’s talk was about fine art rather than music is part of my journey.
It’s one of the risks I took asking those who knew me to see me in a different light since I’ve spent most of my life known more for being a music artist.
The path to bliss is one I’ve taken one step at a time, and it’s led me down paths I wouldn’t have guessed I’d take when I first started in this direction.
If you feel strongly that there’s something you need to do, I understand that fear, but I say do it anyways. If the work is truly important to you, you’ll experience rewards that you can’t yet imagine.