Roots.
Move in unforseen
directions.
Reckless,
spontaneous,
sometimes
plotted and forged.

Much like life.

Who’s to say
which directions are right
or wrong?

Judging
without knowing
the backstory.

Why do I feel
abandonment
in my bones?

This poem is a precursor to an article I have been writing and cannot seem to resolve toward a conclusion. An article about my mother, grandfather and great-grandfather. It is complicated, but one I feel compelled to write. As always, I have too much to say and not the right words to make it palatable for my readers without writing a novel. Monkey mind and ancestry.com.

I did feel the need to get something out into the public sphere as provocation to get the article done. The poem structure helps me to clarify my thoughts using minimal words in a minimal space.

I write to soothe my soul, to reveal what my subconscious needs to bring to the surface. Sometimes it becomes too much. This is also the sole purpose behind why I create art. Two acts I need to do everyday or I fall into myself with no exit.

Thank you for reading and following what I have to say in “An Artist’s Journey”.

Michelle Lindblom Studio
Substack

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