Frazzled. I have been utterly frazzled as the long awaited day of departure draws nearer. I am currently frazzled. But I set some time aside to sit in my delightfully ruffled state to manifest this internal helter-skelter. I took up my brushes and watercolor for the task at hand.
Despite the flurry of emotions and general disarray churning within me, my perfectionism remained stubbornly constant. The invitation of the blank canvas spurred me to dip my brush in bold blue and stroke. I continued to play with other colors, doing anything to get something- anything on paper. Not surprisingly though, it wasn’t long before I found myself crumpling up yet another failed attempt. Midnight was fast approaching and the thought of my daunting to-do list started to consume me. I made an executive decision. You see, my mind was much too occupied, not enough blood was going to my brain’s little art corner so I decided I would project this internalized melange of sentiments onto a vignette of the Eiffel Tower. Midnight arrived and I started once again.
Once I had some structure to follow, the process was not nearly as grueling as the first few attempts. I designated some space to express all that was in me- gently guided by light swipes of grey paint. I wanted to incorporate how Paris awakens newness in me, a place where I would soon live out a piece of my life- thus the rudimentary veins that run throughout the length of the Tower. The haphazard collision of colors toward the neck of the structure serve an accurate depiction of all the emotions I harbored…anticipation, excitement, anxiety, glee, preoccupied, beguiled, dazed. The markings off-center and to the right, are open to interpretation. I like to think of it as a sort of symbolic association or bond I currently have with France, I feel pleasantly poised in how well I was able to translate such abstract sensation on paper.
I feel the days are fleeting and soon I will be too. As I pack enough winter wear to last me for 3 months, I have become sharply aware of the little moments spent in routine familiarity: driving to school, eating at the taco truck down the street from my house, beckoning my brother and hearing the subtle crack in his 12 year old voice. I know in just a few days, all of that will be thousands of miles away, out of reach and out of sight. I imagine it will feel like a plunge and a slow descent simultaneously, eitheror inescapable. But before any of that happens, I will sit here just a little longer and appreciate the frazzle, relishing the view before I set out on this incredible voyage.