the collage of myself

I plopped on the couch, a looming stack of cut-up magazines on the coffee table in front of me. Time to find out what inspires me.

As I started, I found myself cutting out words and pictures that belonged on a vision board – hydration, magical living, wellness journey. I was slipping into the pattern of cutting out anything I thought would look remotely good in my collage, forgetting about the true nature of my task. What do I love?

The patterns were starting to emerge: I was choosing more images and fewer words, the color green was poking out every which way in my pile of inspiration. The process was getting easier to realize the difference between what I loved and what I thought I loved.

Hours passed. The stack of magazines laid at my side. I spread my images across the dining room table, taking it all in, picking out the odd clipping that I knew wasn’t meant to live there. Looking at the odd, but beautiful assortment unlocked something within me, and I recognized myself in the art I had created. In these three hours, I dug out the truth from myself.

And I smiled.

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