The Different Colours of the Sun

Moving here to this place where I don't know anyone, where everyone's semantics, definitions and philosophies are different due to different points of maturity, I feel very alone. When a person is in an extended period of time that is characterized by isolation, loneliness and frantic desperation to get their feet on stable ground, it is really disorientating. 

I've been exposed to the idea that for an artist to thrive and succeed (in the truest sense), they need to find a community, a niche that shares their artistic philosophy and vision and aesthetic tastes. However, it's been more than half a semester here and I haven't found it. 

It's frustrating and it really is discouraging when you try to find your community and you just can't find it. It's like groping in the dark, hoping you'll catch something... anything. 

But tonight, it's the end of a remarkable day in the truest sense of the word. 

The beginning of my day started like this picture. Everything was dull. The colors weren't true. They were muted. And it felt fake. It felt like the lenses which I was viewing the world was not the one for me. Do I belong here? Is there someone or something out there for me here? What if there isn't? What if I'm just not trying hard enough? These questions plagued my mind. The creative energy inside of me was no longer stirring and it frightened me. It had never not stirred before. I started panicking.

Then my plea of profundity was answered by the lovely, talented and wise teacher and mentor of mine, whose voice I had sorely missed and needed. It brought a calm over me but it didn't stir the creative energy. I was still scared. To be honest, I was scared shitless. Those very same questions still plagued my mind and more questions too: is this bliss? What if this isn't bliss? How do I know it's bliss? If I'm questioning if it is bliss or not, is it truly bliss? How will I tell my parents? 

And then tonight, I met two people who finally felt genuine, who shared a part of my philosophy: that every part and faculty of life bleeds together, that theatre is the link to all these parts and faculties, that travel awakens parts of your identity that you didn't know existed, that theatre is violent, that we are always in a state of not-knowing.

And those questions were met with, not answers, but peaceful resolutions. How long have I been here? It's taken these people that are now comfortable in their lives now with their artistic community almost their entire adult lives to find them. And here I was, not even legal in Canada nor the United States for that matter, freaking out about not finding the niche. "But impatience is a good thing," I was told so I was both 'scolded' and 'comforted,' exactly the medicine I needed.

The words that most comforted me and made me feel sure about my identity tonight were the words, "How I wish you were my student." Then I knew; I was sure about myself. All I needed was that affirmation that my thoughts and my personal point of view weren't strange or out-of-place. It was desirable. And how I rejoiced internally at that. How I rejoiced.

But the main point is, I found a part of what I was groping for. And for now, that  little base is enough. And suddenly, my sunset looked like this:

Rich, true colors with no censor. Everything trivial were shadowed and black in comparison but still gave me a frame and a form to position myself. But I could look upon the sunset of the day and feel calm and at peace.