the beauty of deconstruction

I only know that sometimes things need to be torn apart
— Cynthia Lee

There are things that you know about yourself. Things that you may not recognize or be able to name but at the core of your being, you know. 

You know how you move through life. It is written in your DNA. 
You know what you love, like, and dislike. 
You know how you process information and how you create new things. 

Last month, I made this journal as my contribution to a traveling art journal project. I took grocery bags from our nearby organic food store, Earthfare. Now, this is what I know about myself. I rarely have a plan for doing things. I have to figure it out as I go along. I am not able to easily envision how something will look or come together until I have actually done it. So, when I tore apart these grocery bags, I had no layout. I just tore the paper into the approximate sizes that I wanted, folded, then stitched a test signature together. Happy  Surprise . . . ART! 

As I took several more bags and continued to tear them apart and stitch together more signatures ( paying attention now to fold around the word ART), I remembered something about myself. 

I like to deconstruct things and use the materials to make something else. I especially like to make journals from paper that would usually end up in the recycling container. If something comes to me in one form, I usually tear it apart to make what I need, what fits better for me. 

"I only know that sometimes things need to be torn apart"

Sometimes we get so weighted down with life that we need to tear it apart. Sometimes, life implodes on its own, scattering pieces all over. Sometimes, we conscientiously deconstruct our lives so that we can sift through what to carry forward and what to leave behind. 

Here is something else I know about myself. I lean toward being an all or nothing type of person. I am either all in or I am moving on. I don't turn to a new chapter, I close the book. Shit. I probably burn the damn book. It's a coping mechanism, I think. I learned early on that life changes with or without your input or desire and it is better to raise your chin, set your shoulders, and move with it. It's allowed me to do the things that need to be done without drowning in the feelings of hurt, guilt, and rejection. 

I feel it. I do. Sometimes, I drift to the dark side and play the if-only soundtrack on repeat. Sometimes, I revisit the wound, poking and picking, until it hurts again. Sometimes, I wander through the questions and doubts, trying to vindicate myself as I wonder if anything was ever the way I thought it was. 

There's been a lot of changes in the last few years. It was a season of churning. Old friendships warped and no longer fit. New friendships have formed and are being navigated. Childhood homes were left behind in exchange for forever homes and new adventures. Loved ones moved on from this world and those still with us are not as they once were. 

I've been slamming doors closed because this is how I cope. Maybe this is the good and right thing or maybe I can learn that root systems are rarely completely eradicated. What if I can dig down and find treasured roots in order to make new plantings? What if it all doesn't have to be left behind? What if I can carry bits and pieces forward with me? 

I know it may all have to be torn apart now I want to focus on creating something new.