New Hair Cut, Old Reflection

So I got my hair cut yesterday, a birthday present. It felt nice to get my hair pampered and treated, I didn't do any color or anything, I like having my hair its natural color. But getting it cut and trimmed, layers reset was great. And then styled, and when I looked in the mirror after it was done, with my aunt having done my make up earlier and my new hair it felt like I was someone new. It was still me under it, still the same old Wisti, but it felt like I was looking at someone totally new.

And I realized, I'm 19 now, I'm done with my first semester of college, I've lived off on my own, dealt with all of my issues by myself. Its not just the hair cut that's changed for me. Its that I've gorwn up. I have always been so mature for my age, had it commented on, thought highly of myself for it. But its a different type of mature I think to realize that one still has a lot more to learn. Maturity comes in several other ways then just being smart and proper, then just being too old for your years in taste. Maturity can be in knowing that you have so much more to do to grow.

And I am happy to know that, to know that whatever happens I still have so much room to grow. I went to my old high school today, saw old teachers, the people that basically formed my last four years. There is still that foundation, the reflection of me still exisits; just like the reflection of me that lays in my aunts family and house. There are all these layers in my life, all these layers to my reflection. There are so many new parts to me, but at the same time, so many old ones.

I was in the car with my ex boyfriend, my first boyfriend in truth. He is someone that is still a really close, good friend of mine. Someone that I trust, look up to, someone that sort of is my stronghold with males. The person I turn to when I need advice, who makes me feel good and delicate and loved. Not love as in the way of romance, but of friendship, of understanding. We talked about it today, me and him, about how we click together in a way neither of us have found with anyone else. There is no one else that I can I can get into silly debates with, no one else that can be so annoying but so sweet at the same time. He can make me so mad, yet so happy. Its interesting, having him in my life.

There is the whole social construct of idenity, the relfections that others are for us. We see ourselves in the people we have around us. And I think for me he is one reflection that is truest, strongest. He knows me better then I know myself sometimes, yet the same can be said for me. We were each other's firsts dates, first relationship, first kiss. And beyond that we are friends, we are people who, while so extremely different can see and know each other.

Art is another type of reflection, its a reflection that someone can only put out of themselves I think. It is something that only I can give to the world, my art is me, it is my reflection, my truth, my gift and words that aren't words. A picture is worth a thousand words, but not all pictures can be put into words. That's what I want to do with my art, that's what I want to try to make something, create something that is beyond words. Because then that piece, that work will be beyond words, will be so pure and honest that it speaks to the soul, not anything else. Just the soul, the core of all that we are, of humanity.

My art is me. It is the truest, most real thing that I can put out there. Because with each person you are with there is a mask that you wear, like with my aunt in California I am a sweet, Christian value type girl. I don't talk about my more adult interests, the kissing and flirting, the reading of romance novels. None of that fits into her idea of me. Perhaps that's because she was the one who rasied me when I was a little girl. And then with my other aunt, she doesn't see the introverted part of me, no for her I am out going, strong and sure. People expect us to be things, and we live up or down to those expectations so often. As a nearly out of the age range teenager I know all too well that we want to have everyone think we are rebellious, or at the very least our "own" people. That we don't allow others to influnce how we act or speak. But I never cuss around my aunt in Calfornia, while in front of my friends I might let one or two slip in a month. (I am not one to curse but it was an example).

So what do we have when we strip that mask away? What is underneath? For me, its the art. Its the truth that you can say without words. Its the way to lay yourself bare before the world, and yet keep yourself safe at the same time. Because, its like that piece of art becomes a vulernabity for us, it is something that not everyone has to pay attention to, has to understand. Its so easy for people to just look and say "Oh, that's lovely." or something along those lines and leave it that. It never has to be more, because after all they looked and complimented it. That's all we wanted right? Well on some level perhaps.

If they don't want to they don't have to look deeper, see more into it. They can block the receptors of their soul off. There are some understandings that can only come without words, they are feelings, movements, sensations, they are art within the human soul and mind and heart. And if one isn't open to them then you don't have to feel them. Which is why when you strip yourself bare before the world with a piece that means so much, holds so much, it doesn't mean the world will pay attention. Because really, the world doesn't want to see those things, it doesn't want to pay attention to much. But people, some people do. And to those people, art can be like music, a symphony that moves through you in a soul shattering manner. It can be like the most perfect moment of the day, or the most horrible one. It holds a truth that so few want to see, that so many could grasp, and that we all try to put on the canvas. I don't think that any artist can really do work and not put part of themselves into it. Please don't take this blog to say that I think every piece an artist does is this soul searching and shattering experience. Trust me I know this isn't so, but each piece means something, holds something. And sometimes its the smallest things that reach out and grap someone. The smallest things that can mean the world to one person and nothing to the next.

Art is both moumental and insigificant, it is both truth and lies. Art is the universe and all the shades of black, white and gray within it.

My art is me, every piece I do is another reflection of myself. And yes I'll be going to art college soon, I'll be getting better. My classes there will be my "new hair cut", but just like all the reflections that places of my past hold, my old art, and the underneath of my new, they will still be that old reflection.

And both things, myself and my art, well those, those are me and ever changing, those are truth and not true. I have a million mirrors to look at, each day I chose another. I don't know what the end reflection will be, or reflections if that is the case. But I know, that at the very core of it....

Is my soul.

And that is a pure, honest truth that nothing will change.