When I was in high school a teacher said that everything is politics: “Even if you’re choosing to just draw a flower, that is a political choice”. At the time I laughed along with him and the rest of the class at how silly it would be to just draw flowers. 17 year-old me would be shocked and appalled to see what I am up to these days!
It’s taken me many roads and overgrown cliff-sided paths, but I’ve finally arrived at something that might stick and guess what? I’m drawing flowers. Nobody needs to hear me complain about the state of the world. I’ve been yelling since I was a kid and I’ve watched others yelling all my life and I have yet to see any results. I’m tired of yelling into a void. I’m tired of watching others yell themselves hoarse without ever getting anywhere. As a writer and artist I have nothing else to add to the conversation except …
… flowers??!
I’ve been musing over what my old teacher said about drawing flowers whilst I draw flowers and wonder if the deprecating tone was in my mind or was it intended? Actually, does it really matter? Because you know what: The world needs flowers. We are constantly riveted by the horrors in the world so much so that we forget to breathe, let alone remember the roses awaiting us in the garden outside, over there, right under our noses. We are aware of the horrific. But we forget the flowers. We fixate on the drama and forgo the beauty in the world. We miss the lotus for the muck.
Sometimes what the world really needs aren’t more people pointing out it’s many flaws. Sometimes what the world really needs are those who celebrate its beauty. Sometimes we need to *just* draw flowers, the same as we sometimes need to *just* breathe. And sometimes, maybe, *just* drawing flowers can be revolutionary.
Peace and love, my friends! Namaste
