I had a late start that morning. My body nor my mind wanted to wake up. For fear of the alarm not ringing again, I found the will to unglue my eyes slowly and the strength to peel my upper back from the bed vertebrae by vertebrae. I wiggled my toes, moved my feet, and slid them off to my bedside. I stretched my legs until my feet found their slippers, and with great slug, I pushed my hands against the bed and stood up. I took a deep breath and quickly dressed the bed. I rushed my body into my workout clothes and hurried to the bathroom. Having brushed my teeth, I set my coffee and had my morning prayer.
Following a debate on whether I would continue the checklist or call it a day, my distress needed therapy, so I checked the next box. I vacuumed. I cooked. I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the bathroom. I watered the plants. As I was watering the plants, I realized how out of touch I was at that moment. As the water sprinkled out of the watering can, I noticed how the water met the soil, how the pot felt in my hand, how I hadn’t been present a moment since I began rushing through my list. The thought of life came to me. And I questioned, had I fallen into a trap and suddenly realized it? Was this it, getting through the days checklist, going to bed, and starting all over again? Was life just a big checklist? I’d been in constant hurry. If the finish line is my last breath, why am I racing toward it?
by Jessica G Ferrer
In this journey of mine, as an artist, I find myself falling more in love with the complexities of the human condition. There is so much pain, misunderstanding, joy and sadness, ease, play, unawareness, awareness, all so compelling. An observer, I see so many stories. Some are nearly impossible to decipher, but my mind tells them anyway.
All of us. While we share moments, we live our lives separately. Our thoughts can be shared, but many we choose to hold deeply because they are ours. We cross each other on the streets without a glance. We share the commonality that we are part of the same race. We live in the same world. And yet we are strangers to each other.
written by Jessica G Ferrer
Connect on socials:
If you would like to contribute to the running of my page, you can donate here:
Visuals, art, and photography by Jessica G Ferrer unless otherwise stated.