My writing buddy and I were going over life, its trials and tribulations.
We started giggling, as we always do. Life sucks sometimes. It kicks us in the teeth. We forge on. We roll with the punches. At least, we try to. What separates us from the animals is hope.
I tried to share some kind of a visual with my buddy when I thought of a tapestry. Those huge ones hanging on walls of castles and such. They look beautiful. Until you pick up an edge and look behind.
Oh my goodness. The knots and the hanging threads and the total jumble that is part of the creation of a beautiful piece of art.
That's what we look like to ourselves if all we concentrate on is the backside. *g* If we look at the front, if we really look at ourselves, we can see the beauty that the All-knowing One created.
Same for a puzzle or a work of art that's not quite done yet. Unintelligible most times. Brush strokes get in the way of seeing what the artist sees. Puzzle pieces strewn about with hanging ends staring at us, taunting us with their puzzlement.
My writing is the same way. If I only look at one chapter or one character or one landscape, I can't see the whole thing. In fact, until it's written, I can't see the whole thing. I can get discouraged and want to walk away.
I've discovered that walking away isn't an option. Discouragement shouldn't be a roadblock. So I'll look at my book as a large, beautiful tapestry (making sure the backside is hidden from view) and enjoy this sub-creation that I'm part of.
Life is a tapestry.
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