I began a new blog today about my stay in the maternity ward, the noisy crowd constantly visiting the woman in the bed next to mine, and how it drove me to distraction. But separating my assorted bouquets into vases containing just one color each, helped soothe my frayed nerves and body. Yes. When things became too much to handle, I rearranged the flowers according to color.
I actually live near a hospital now, with the attendant florist nearby, and still turn away from the assorted bouquets on display, as for some reason they represent chaos, and certainly remind me of the chaos I felt after childbirth.
But today I was thinking about the importance of sorting, and putting things in their right place. Or in the right order. I’m not obsessive about it, but I know how I feel when I lay out my colors in the same order every time, so I never have to think about it. And I know the feeling of going into a painting and not knowing where everything goes, maybe not for a while. And how it helps to know where my colors are, how they’re always in the same place on the palette where I left them. It’s not the same thing as keeping your underwear drawer tidy or your linen cupboard neat. Not the same thing at all. Because different colors represent different energies and different feelings. They represent different vibratory rates.
So the blog I began writing started to turn into something much longer, too long I thought for a blog. And as I had recently joined Wattpad, I thought I might post the piece there. I can add another chapter too, and make it a longer story. This part is really about coming back into alignment with oneself after something as natural, yet traumatic in its own way, as having a baby.
It’s also about learning what soothed me, and gave me a sense of control in a place where I had none. Making art is a way to sort out feelings by expressing what they are. All I could do in the maternity ward was rearrange the flowers, but it seemed that was enough.
You can read the story here: http://www.wattpad.com/66506666