I Am Walking More Slowly These Days

I Am Walking More Slowly These Days

Walking a Little More SlowlyThese days, I am walking a little more slowly.
The snail has always been my motif, and sometimes I wonder what it means to move even slower than that.
When someone leaves this world, many thoughts follow.
There is a natural period of mourning.
While we are alive, we create many scenes together.
We love, misunderstand, resent, forgive, help, and hurt one another.
But when the physical presence is gone, those scenes no longer continue.
What remains is a story.
It is difficult to say whether that story is tragic or beautiful.
Human life is rarely entirely one or the other.
It feels more like a record, or a documentary of events that unfolded as they did.
Certain things happened.
Within them, we felt sorrow and misunderstanding.
And despite everything, there was also love.
Someone leaves.
Someone remains.
Those who remain continue their days.
That seems to be the structure of life.
During this time, I have been thinking about what my blog means to me.
My mother did not particularly value my writing.
She believed that artistic work lacked practical meaning.
To her, creating and sharing stories seemed close to daydreaming.
Until I became independent, I could not freely pursue writing or painting.
Supporting my family came first.
I have never fully shared this part of my life with my family back home.
It was simply how that period unfolded.
In time, I became independent and, somewhat later than expected, began pursuing my own path again.
I opened a blog and started recording my daily thoughts about art.
There was a period when I focused almost entirely on painting.
I did not follow a specific philosophy.
I simply repeated the work and stayed with it.
Over time, that practice gave me direction.
It helped me form a steadier sense of where I am going.
These days I am moving more slowly.
But I have not stopped.
This slower pace is also part of the path.