what art form does your soul take?
tagged by: @fatedevour BRITT <33 TY!!
tagging: @frenzie (hi me again. menti & juno?), @obscurd, @graverider / @seekerdeceit, @visionsblessed (aventurine + whoever!!), @darkbets (whoever you like :D), @wcrldcfvtlvs (rosalie!), @deathsmaidens and you, the reader! please steal it from me
In shades of gray and black and white, and in the sepia hues of drama and tragedy, your soul creates film. Whether through photography or motion picture, you long to capture the highest highs and the lowest lows for a moment, or a minute. You long to preserve this feeling, whatever it is in all its beauty, you long to live in it, lingering in the intensity of your emotions. To turn the camera around is to hope desperately for connection and understanding. To create in film is to stop time itself; to take a snapshot of what surrounds you and bring a microscope to the lens so that you can see yourself by better seeing the world around you. Where others rely on logic, you rely on your gut, on what you know to be true to who you are. You are a creature of extremes, of yes and no, and of night and day. You know what it is to feel misunderstood, to feel like no one truly knows you ββ there is no greater curse for someone who wants so terribly to be seen for all their flaws, and loved in spite of it. Look to Mike Flanagan. Look to Sophia Coppola. Look to Gerwig, and Scorsese, and Spielberg, and Nolan. What a poignant feeling there is to be found in cataloging everything the eye cannot see.
Slaving away at a hot stove, your soul creates sustenance. Nourishment fulfills its purpose, but what you make is so much more than that. What you make feeds other peopleβs souls, keeps them full, keeps them sated. And it is art all the same, beautiful in its simple elegance and comfort. To cook and bake is to put others before yourself. In the kitchen, you create comfort. There is a simplistic loveliness to be found in a meal well cooked. It is foolish to underestimate the humbling beauty of fresh sourdough scored with floral vines, or a tray of muffins, studded with shining blueberries like a starry night. Your being exists to care for others, to put them before yourself. There are times where you may need to rest your weary bones at the very table where your loved ones feast, but you are always quick to get back on your feet. With a gentle and caring heart, you are prone to overextending yourself, but every kitchen needs more than just one person, and you are nothing without your sous chef, your line cook, your dishwasher. Look to Julia Child. Look to Wolfgang Puck. Look to Guichon, and Ramsay, and Oliver, and Ducasse. What magnificence you can put together with only a whisk and a spoon and your fair share of sugar. What satisfaction in a stomach no longer left unfed.
Formed with willpower and with determination, your soul creates sculpture. Whether it be out of marble, clay, or stone, to shape the inorganic into something worth stopping to stare at is a feat unto itself. Sculpture is about endurance, and if there is anything you can do, itβs endure. To be a sculptor is to be strong, and you know what that means better than anyone else. Your whole life you have been a pillar for others ββΒ stable, firm, and infallible. Others can depend on you and lean on you, and you will shoulder that weight like it is nothing. But you more than most must understand that strength does not last forever ββ even the hardiest rock faces wear with time, and someday that strength will fade away, and where will you be left then? You desire to be more than your strength, to allow yourself to be soft in a way that will not wear. With calloused hands and a calloused heart, you are able to look through everything that stands in your way, carving resolutely through to what you seek beneath it all. Look to Michelangelo. Look to Alberto Giacometti. Look to Bourgeois, and Kusama, and Donatello, and Rodin. What perfection, what sublime excellence there is in turning nothing into something, anything, no matter how heavy that weight is to bear.
