To Whom it May Concern:

I'm a creative dreamer. How can I deny something a part of myself which inspires me? I'm drawn to the very thing which is unaccepted and ashamed.

I'm a caterpiller here just getting ready to wrap my caccoon. A caccoon that kills off my pride.

So I march on. And try to accept myself. I keep making and I push past the self-doubt. I keep creating.

I'm just an artist. An artist in soul spills out no matter how it's being expressed. Everything becomes an expression until you everything becomes a part of you. 

Welcome to my lair. This is the inmost part of my life on this sphere in the dark. The lights that shine are our minds, and I'll let mine be uncovered to you.

Yes you can see me, but it's not for you. It's for me. Because to be seen, is to see yourself. When you brave the eyes of all others, and even lastly to God who is inside you, you are free to be love and accepted for who you are as an inperfect being. The journey starts from far away and annonomys and ends up so close you're breathing condensation onto the mirror in front of you. You're wrapped up within yourself. Your caccoon.

To be known by others takes bravery, but to be known by oneself takes more courage and leaps of faith.

But to gain the freedom we seek, we must brave the wilderness and let out our wings. You feel the fear and do it anyway. To trust yourself to do what you want in life means you're okay with not being perfect or "enough."

The bravery in us is like a caterpillar holding on and marching on through the fear...and when it turns into a butterfly, we are set free to fly because we saw that braving made us who we were meant to be, and you are enough.

I ask myself....how brave am I? Am I only as brave as I am willing to go? Will I believe enough that I'm enough. The question is how far am I willing to go to make my dreams come true. I feel desires calling me to create and share. I dream of letting the butterfly out.

...

When someone sells the soul of their art for money and success, they trade the spark of magic that art is supposed to be. But if you keep your soul and don't compromise who you are--your atonomy, your sovereignty, then it's meant to be what it is. An expression of human soul, meant to spur and enlighten others to their dreams and callings.

I want to have something to stake a claim in. I want in on my own game. I want to share what I say. I want to make a living on my own name. The only way to keep going is to keep crawling along, holding on, and "following my schemes," as I write my own dreams to my own beat.

I'm a caterpiller here just getting ready to wrap my caccoon.