Patterns

Today it is raining in Los Angeles, and I am thinking about my life. I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the quiet — it’s early — and rain and blowing leaves spatter on the windows, and I realize my life has similar patterns. Some of my patterns I would like to let wash away like the rain — lit up and visible as it streaks past the headlights and traffic lights, then falling softly and dissipating into the earth and cement, for the trees to drink. One such pattern is chasing the boys around, instead of doing my fashion design work. Another is thinking I need to use other people’s creative energy instead of trusting mine is enough. When you count on your own creative energy as being radiant and enough, you feel a “Whole” feeling. It feels like peace. Then you catch the fast, hot vibration of creativity, and begin working on your project from this place, and people come to you — all the best artists. You have to be able to see a pattern to rise out of it, like the tears of rain streaking past the lights. Me going up, the raindrops of my past slanting down, and sideways, and away.