Mental Shackles

So many times, we found ourselves shackled by our own fears,
immobilized by dread. The sword of Damocles is hanging above our head. A vitriolic decoction, we swallow the draft that make us see our lack of control.

We feel alone, helpless, like living inside a dank dungeon. No sunlight streaming in. No bright tomorrow to look forward to.

Yet, this terror is in the mind, a susurrant whisper that swells into a shout. It warps our thinking process and disables our motor coordination. If we can silence this, we enable ourselves to act and gain back the control on our lives.

In the process, we realize that the manacles that fettered us from acting is just a figment of our imagination and that all along, the manacles are corroded.

Uncertain

My piece called Inner Passion had generated interesting comments from people. They have seen a number of images out of an abstract piece. One said the piece looked like the sun while another said, it looked like a navel. My three good friends unanimously said, it reminded them of a woman's breast. (and no more on which particular part.) 

These comments inspired me to create another abstract piece. It took me the whole summer to finish this due to  work and other responsibilities. Interestingly, when I started taking its photos for this post, I realized that a variation in its layout may also evoke a different interpretation.

I planned to entitle this as Catharsis. Now, I am no longer certain what its name, as I am overwhelmed on which layout I like more. Maybe, this is the allure of abstract art that have drawn artists. I can now see the freedom it bestows. There is no exact ending. Each line takes you to a different dimension. Each brush stroke unveils a new part of you. 

For a control freak like me, it can be overwhelming but surprisingly, it can be liberating at the same time. 

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Now, I am very much interested on what you think about the piece. Don't worry, I have meager psychology background so I won't be psychoanalyzing your comments. It will be fun, reading your interpretation on the piece at the comment section.  

Coming Back

Boatwrecks at Capusan Beach, Cuyo

Rough seas, strange tides

A tiny dot, green and sand

Strangers around

Bonds formed

Peace and quiet inside

Familiar sights, old sounds

Beaten stuff surround

Warmth missing

Tranquility gone

Home, now undone