Imagine, if you will, a single flower growing in a garden. This flower represents everything you hold precious artistically. You do everything you can to make sure it is well-nourished and watered and that it receives ample sunshine. You also do everything you can to protect it from the elements — heavy rain, intense heat, stomping (and peeing dogs), little brats trying to pick it, ect…
Before you know it, you’ve carved out a nice, safe space for your artistic flower and it seems to have a solid root system in place. The only thing that you’re left with now, is how the hell do you make it flourish.
As I’ve stated in almost every Inside the Box, I often feel like I’m walking around in the dark in terms of what I’m supposed to do next. And my poor flower, with its strong roots and stark beauty, sits there in front of the floral enthusiasts and is subjected to the, “it’s good, but not what I’m looking for.”
No one seems to want my poor flower.
And often, I look at it with garden cutters and weigh the options.
But then, someone comes along and smells its perfume and is held by its unique color, and it is exactly what they are looking for and not only do they want it, they say they “love” it. In fact, they won’t leave without it. All that work, years often, of tending to something no one wants, is suddenly prized. And wanted. And loved.
The first person who has to love the work you do is yourself. Then you have to realize most people won’t love it as much as you do. Then you have to understand that that’s okay. Because it only takes one. You just have to press on and try to find the right person.
So why all the floral talk?
My poem THE CARNAL FLOWER is being published. Four years after I wrote it.