When you pass the 25000ft mark on Mount Everest, you enter what is called The Death Zone. Simply because staying in this altitude, with its thin air, will eventually kill you.
What I found to be true about my own life, was that the comfort zone, was my death zone. A repetitive pattern of routine with little space for creative expression that slowly suffocated me. And eventually it killed me.
Not literarily death, but more what the buddhists call spiritual death. And it was all triggered by the loss of my mum. When mum died, the artist within me was born. And like most births, its been hard.
In this long walk out of my comfort zone, the person I used to be – or thought I was – has fought back in an enduring way. My former belief in apparent safety has tried to pull me back into the comfort zone, to where my salary and standard of living was in the hands of others.
With being an artist comes exposure
Not only through making my art known, but also in the art itself. Because with my art I show, and expose my heart – for everyone to see.
Theres no way to hide anymore – Im fully reliant on myself. With the risk that comes with it.
One thing was to fund my photobook Remembrance on Kickstarter. Another thing is to step fully out there claiming to be an artist.
So here I am, stepping into the light, with the risk, doubt and and vulnerability that comes with it.
In this situation I find trust in the words of Brenè Brown:
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.“