“My sadness is beautiful. It infuses everything I do. It is at the core of my identity and always has been, just as happiness is in some people. I refuse to be told that it’s a flaw. I will not mute it with medications for the sake of society. I will hold it close to me and celebrate it rightfully while the rest of the world fails to see it for what it is and it will be their loss.”
―
Maria and I are both moody people in many ways.
We have great hope for ourselves and our friends and the world. We have a lot of fun.
We also know great sadness. Since I love just about everything about Maria, I love her moods, and there are many and they are deep.
Most of the portraits of her catch her smiling, as she would rather be seen smiling than not. There is a great shining and explosive joy in her, and her smile lights up the shadows.
But sometimes – often – I look up and there is great sadness in her eyes.
I saw that today and took this portrait. I never try to stop her sadness or talk her out of it, it is beautiful and it infuses much of what she does. Like the poet, it is at the core of her identity, as is her very radiant smile.
If you want to love an artist, you must agree to love an artist’s moods, and never try to change them or lift them up, or they can never really be themselves.
I wrote this poem about her sadness once, and I thought of it and pulled it out of my desk when I took this portrait with my new lens. Maria has many moods, her emotions rush across her face like a herd of beautiful ponies running on the plains, or a flock of birds flying by.
Sometimes she goes away, she always comes back.
My poem to Maria’s sadness:
“Sadness becomes the beautiful Woman.
It gives me everything a warm body can.
Her sadness becomes my lover,
through it she breaks free of this tiresome and
confused world,
sees things that alone she can see,
and make her lonely,
When she is sad.
Sometimes she goes away,
she always comes back
What a loss it would be,
if the rest of the world never
got to see it too.”
Jon-Thank you for this post. It is the first time I have felt understood for my sadness and my unwillingness to–mute it with medications for the sake of society. It is true for me that sadness can act as a lens through which to see the world more clearly. I picked up your book “The Dogs of Bedlam Farm” in one of those “Little Free Libraries”. I am sorry to say that I have not come across your writing before now. I am on page 100 and feel like I am right by your side as you maneuver all the obstacles and triumphs of beginning a new story on Bedlam Farm. Your book provides a sanctuary of sanity in a world filled with uncertainty and plenty of triggers for sadness. Thank you for opening your farm to other dog people like me. I wish you, Maria, and all the residents of Bedlam Farm the very best of health and a beautiful life.