In the past while I have been drawing images to find the one for a friend of my son. The friend is releasing his first CD and I was looking for the images that with my son’s help on photoshop we would create something that reflected the feeling of the music. It is hard looking for someone else’s imagery. The process has lead to a series of images about floating through time and space, ideas and other things.

I shared one of the images that came from the process in another blog…something happens when grey pencil lines become like white light on a black background …..https://mysophistgarden.wordpress.com/2016/05/30/light-within-spaces-stories-of-being/ 

The movement through space, the apparent void between realities, what is it? How does it work? Does it matter to answer the question? The building of memory in and around memory, replicating themes and editing is part of what psychology seems to hold with some fascination. I have left that space to be what it is and moved on the notion… sound? It came out of the conversation…. when is a vibration sound?

So much of conversation now is about knowing your own, very own personal truth and living it. Of then is phrased as finding your own voice and speaking your truth. There came a pause in the space between the hands….. Do I have a voice if no one listens to me? Perhaps to have a voice I/we need a listener. An ear for the vibration of my voice to resonate on and for sound to emanate. More though….if that sound remains only sound without the form triggering recognition of shared meaning then…. is my voice noise or the sound of connection? Interaction.

On my Journey to Beautiful as I drew and listened I created a truth that became a voice without words. It lead to a time to sharing in which people listened and tried to understand what I knew. Colouring In was not the sound of my voice it was one that was imposed on me. Coffee and Colouring In for Grown Ups (TM) was an exploration of listening to what other people found in the voice that I had. It became this thing in which other people made my ‘words’ into their own truths. perhaps that is what stories do. What I realised is that I wasn’t being listened to, my images and truths were being used to find the ‘thing’, ‘mediation’ that so called experts were telling the colourers they should find. Many did.

Anyway now I am trying to find the sound of connection for me. It isn’t popular to say but my lonely heart wants to be understood without continuously having to explain itself. To be listened to by someone looking to find me, it is different to listening to find out if I am you. Wondering what the sound of connection is…. perhaps it is just the hope that someone I am heard.

Life is a gift and I get to live it.

Sandy