The Last of the Thousand Words

Today, I finished my 100th post for The Thousand Words Project. It took me a few days short of one year to make those 100 entries, and in the end, it was very difficult for me to let go of the fear that I wouldn’t get in all of the “best” images, or my most beautiful words. It’s not easy to let instinct and the subconscious take over, even after all that practice.

It’s hard to say, in the end, what this project has done for me, but I feel like the work and progress I’ve made in the last year has been a testament to this introspective, validating, and in many ways therapeutic process. To view your own work as art, give individual images the attention you might when examining the work of the masters, to look inside and see what those discoveries you’ve made might tell you about yourself . . . it’s transformative.

Who knows. Perhaps I’ve taken it a little too far. Or perhaps it’s just exactly what was right for me during this strange time of transition. We are both connected and isolated in a way we haven’t been for generations, or longer. If there was ever a time for drastic measures by way of introspection, this is it.

So, am I glad I put in the pretty monumental effort it took to see this project to the end? Of course. But I don’t feel like I’m done. I’d really love to do more with this project, to finish it off, to inspire others to find projects that give them the same level of personal growth, to collaborate with other artists. And I will work on that in the coming years. But I feel this has also laid the groundwork for what personal projects can and should be, and it will be a baseline and a guide for all my future projects.

If you missed my other blogs on this project, here they are:
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE

It is not gentle, the unrelenting, overwhelming, crusade against Hope.

All I have is my unique perspective. Unapologetic, unreserved, me.

Don't just let chance take over. Invite it. Trust it.

The seen and unseen are essential pieces of the story.

Hindsight. Shedding light and expectation. Letting her choose her path.

Living and learning in the curiosity of the current moment.

You can't stand out if you're not standing with others.

There's always a landing at the top of a climb.

Letting the light in doesn't mean I can see clearly.

We exist now, and in all that came before us.

The total comfort of realizing when essential rest becomes laziness.

What others see reflects how we recognize and reveal ourselves.

Just pieces, focusing on fragments in fleeting light and shadow.

Reflex. Instinct. We move in sync if we allow it.

Peace comes with the safety of being supported, not submerged.

Moving, transparent pieces of an idea. Almost ready, almost clear.

Coming out of the bubble, the haze. Connecting the dots.