The Affair

I dared to dream. In the quiet of night, I was seduced by an idea, and my fingers began to dance on the page. I embraced the art of words, the art of paint and succumbed to the relief it gave from the shackles of life and duty. It’s like falling in love, the excitement, the all-consuming thoughts, the passion of finding a new purpose. A creative mind gives birth to many love children.

For years, I had flirted with the prospect of turning art into something more than a hobby. But a dalliance it remained, for the path of conformity was rigid and unyielding. In our culture the pursuit of art is meaningless, undervalued and most disturbingly an afront to God. I was obedient and contained…for a time.

But then life changed, old connections became weaker, family replaced by another and I found myself stumbling through a minefield of isolation. I am hard enough to withstand loneliness, but even the hardest of rocks weather over time. It’s starts with the erosion of the values that one’s ancestors etched onto your heart. Veils of silence cover your ears from the mantra of their opinions.

Suddenly you wake up and you realise you are on your own. Free to decide your own mind and free to search for more like-minded people. The trouble is, it’s tricky to find your kindred-spirits when you’ve spent decades supressing your true desires and who you’ve always wanted to be.

Now I’m stuck in the middle, caught between two versions of myself. I no longer relate to the world of the past and I haven’t quite reached my vision of the future. For now, I am just a wayfarer, studying the map of the stars. I hope my future sparkles bright like these stars. I’ve sailed too far to go back. Besides there is nothing left to go back to.

I just need to somehow keep my faith in this journey, otherwise I have lost my footing in both worlds.