Meditations

Looking out the window of my apartment I am greeted by an expanse of dying trees. Once rich with life, the leaves have slowly transformed from green to gray. The winter storm that swept through a couple weeks back still lingers, and you may think that the sight would be depressing to look at, but I see it differently. Families of these gray trees with wilted and dried up leaves contrasted against the blue sky, naked branches bathing in the sunlight, Texas landscape scorched by ice and cold. This is a statement. Spring will still come! Summer will still come! The contrast of relentless movement vs. the relentless still.

Meditating on this very thing shows me parallels between nature and my own pursuits. Being inseparable from nature I believe that all we produce must follow the same pattern. Much like the trees that stand here dying, ideas that once stood firm, ripe with leaves, no longer produce branches throughout my mind. The act of removing my energy- my attention has struck them with relentless still, and yet, much like the blue sky, my beliefs, hopes, dreams, and spirit that build my personality act as the seasons within me, relentless movement. Continuous transformation internally is replicated by the external world.

Much time as a creative is spent offering and producing, less time is spent considering the ideas that have died to make way for the new ones. Seasons change in our spirit, and often the thing we’ve just offered to the world with joy gets sacrificed in our mind to make space. Often I forget about the things I’ve brought forth, sometimes I forget almost immediately. Rarely do I think about the current Fenwick model, aside from the things I have to do to deliver the product to the people or small changes that need to be addressed. My mind is totally focused on, upcoming models, new color ways, collection ideas, opportunities that will bloom into new expressions. Me writing this is simply a reminder to myself that somewhere between what was and what will be, is something special. Some magic taking place in the infinitely small moment between past and future. That has to be where Life takes place, where the seeds get planted.

 

Love,

B

Leave a comment