A Glimpse Of Green In A Blurred World Of Grey
Life is, I believe, mostly blurred and confusing.
We are born and grow up and, when we see something we like, or want to know better or, perhaps, meet someone we want to spend time with, we fix our sights, reach out and start to focus. But it's at that moment, that specific moment in time, that we realise, quite suddenly and often quite painfully, that nothing is as it appears and there really are no hard edges in life.
Because all that surrounds us is fluid, unpredictable and often unreliable. Like a puddle of water by the side of the road, we have times where our lives start to settle, when reflections of colours and images take shape, and just as we get there, things making some sense, some dirty great lorry drives right through our world and everything gets muddled and blurred.
And we end up just wet and confused.
To survive, we learn to put these glimpses, these feelings and snapshots, into some kind of order in our minds.
And when done, we fill any gaps that are left.
And there are always, inevitably, gaps that are left.
We fill them with things that we know and believe, things that look right and hopefully feel right, that fit in the gaps we can see. We create our hard edges where we think they should be.
We make things up. We guess what is right.
A glimspe of green in a blurred world of grey? So we add lines and more colour and create our very own pin-sharp, idealised world.
A world that looks beautiful. A world that feels safe. A world that is totally, utterly fake.
Because real life is not like that.
It’s not how we want it. It’s how it unfolds, where real life really is, just green onto grey.
And it’s scary and stunning, confused and exciting, our mixed up, fuzzy and soft-edged world.
And it’s never, ever, how we think it will be.
