thank_you_stickers_black-rbcf4a0e0fdeb409c970e4711dd41146f_v9waf_8byvr_324.jpg

 

For my 100th post to Facebook, I would like to do two things: one, share the reason I began this blog in the first place.  Two, I would like to extend thank you’s to those of you who read my posts and to the artists who have allowed their work to be featured here.

 

First of all, I am amazed at how Necessary Whispers has transformed and how it has transformed me. I began my first blog post as a result of encouragement from several people who told me, repeatedly, that I should write in a more public forum. Some might call their methods of encouragement “badgering” but I will save this judgment for my own personal thoughts.   Alas, the week I finally began was the week a good friend of mine said, “Jill, stop thinking about what you should write and write what you want to write. Bang the drum and your tribe will appear.”

 

I love that metaphor: bang the drum and your tribe will appear. My tribe, of course, did appear. And I believe they will continue to come near.  One of the things I have learned through my writing is that if we share our thoughts, ideas and stories honestly, we will soon learn that we are not alone.

 

Something unexpected and perfect happened about midway through my posting. I was on Facebook one evening looking through strangers’ photographs–as I am wont to do when I am searching for inspiration–when I stumbled upon a painting by Heiko Müller. I had no idea who Heiko was at the time but I kept thinking about that painting. So, eventually, I found it again and I asked him if I could write the story that I saw in his painting and then use the image on my blog.  I was so grateful when he said yes.

 

The reason I even thought to write about that first painting was because I used to go to art museums, sit in front of large paintings or sculptures and write what they made me feel. Sometimes my feelings would begin to shape themselves into stories and, usually, those stories would remain untold because I always thought, “Who cares. It’s a waste of time to write stories I will never share.” Perhaps every artist—whichever kind of artist he or she may be—struggles with the question, “Who is my audience?” When I was sitting on dirty museum floors I had no idea who would listen. Or read. So I gave up.

 

Now, however, through the generosity of several amazing artists, I have found the courage to write a number of pieces to the end. Each of the artists who have entrusted their work to my hands has supported a desire in me that has laid dormant for years: to be a writer. The words “thank you” do not feel adequate enough to express my gratitude to each of the artists. And yet . . . thank you from the bottom of my heart, in order of appearance:

 

Heiko Müller, http://www.heikomueller.de

Gregory Crewdson

Conny Stark, http://www.diemalerin-connystark.de/home.html

Boje Arndt Kiesiel, http://www.kiesiel.com

Ruprecht von Kaufmann, http://rvonkaufmann.com/home/

Gabriele Ahrens, http://www.gabriele-ahrens.de/index.php

Thorsten Dittrich, http://www.thorstendittrich.de

moki, http://www.mioke.de

and soon

Gabriele Schlesselmann, http://www.gabriele-schlesselmann.de

 

Incidentally, I have never considered myself a poet. Sure, I have written Shakespearian style sonnets for years but those sonnets are highly structured. There are a set of criterion that must be followed in order to make each sonnet work: 14 lines, each line must be comprised of 10 syllables that follow a pattern of stressed and then unstressed syllables . . . there are a myriad of rules that make the form very technical and safe. My point is that poetry was never my style of choice. And yet, there was something about the stories I saw in Heiko’s pieces that gave me courage to write what I saw in a free form of poetry. I cannot explain how or why this happened but once I felt the words fall from my mind and splash onto my keyboard I realized there was a freedom in being brave enough to write in poetry about images, thoughts, ideas, questions, people, moments, etc. that I would not have dared write about in prose. And yes, I just called myself “brave,” which sounds really prideful. But I hope you won’t think I am filled with artistic pride: I was more surprised than anyone to learn that I could be brave in my writing.  I still have many days when I feel like I am sweating blood as I fight against going back to that “safe place.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. I told myself in the beginning of this process I would probably stop once I reached my 100th post on Facebook. However, now that I am here I feel like I am just beginning. I will continue to bang the drum and be grateful that I have a beautiful tribe with whom I can share my thoughts and who I hope will always feel free to share their thoughts with me.

 

Peace to you,

Jill Szoo Wilson

Advertisements