As a child, I often spoke out of turn and perhaps it was only because I had so much to say and a desperate need to be heard. I spent so many years speaking in circles, never able to turn off the roundabout in my mind, wondering which road was worth taking. Eventually I chose the roughest road, in hopes of having the best reward. While I believe I achieved what I set out to do, there are still many unanswered questions left to answer and likely I have many days left to go.
Life rarely presents your true path all at once. Hints are dropped piecemeal like breadcrumbs and it’s not uncommon for scavengers to snag them before you find them, breaking up the trail and leaving you lost in an unfamiliar maze. I’ve braved many brambles and thorns blazing a path, sometimes fueled by nothing but adrenaline and egotism borne out of desperation. Now, as I set to edit my art, to compose something of a greater meaning than the sum of its parts, I struggle at anything more than simply collecting bits and scraps, what-might-have-been’s and never-meant-to-be’s, paper excerpts and half-baked essays. Does it even add up to anything worthy of saying or is it a vain attempt at appearing noteworthy?
~ Amelia Desertsong
