Dear Blackness

Create for the people who need your art. See them. Let them see you. Create from a place of overflow - from the intimacy that comes with taking the time to understand exactly what you’re made of. From the willingness to be curious with your own complexity. Create with the intention of reaching your own depths. With the understanding that nobody will see you the way you can see yourself. With the clarity that your own approval is the one that you most long for.

Let everything else be noise.

Release the need to help or force or need other people to “get” you.

That’s not how this works.

The impulse itself is rooted in an illusion intended to keep you searching outside of yourself.

You are who you need.

Trust that.

Let the relationship you forge with yourself be a foundation from which you cast spells and break curses. A foundation from which, upon meeting your majesty, you embrace your own capacity to build worlds.

They may never get you - but you don’t need them to.

This was never about them - understand that even “they” are an invitation to fiercely center yourself. An opportunity to deeply “get” yourself. Not if or when or someday—now. Always in the now.

Move with the knowing that you are the center of the Universe.

Move with the energy of who you have always been and who you were always created to be.
Move with the conviction that it is already done - you are simply enroute.

And when moving seems impossible, when uncertainty seems insurmountable - sit with silence.

There is aways much to be found in silence.

Dear Blackness,

There are some who will take issue with the act that I write to you so specifically…

Fuck them.