Art, Writing

Will you unlock your passions and bleed colors?

Soul Colors | | horse | art | drawing | poetry | pastels
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My passion runs deep and yet often lays dormant and unused for extended periods of time. I set them aside under the burdens and obligations of life, or so I tell myself. I am only doing what is needed and what is right.

Really? Is stifling my God-given talents and desires a good thing?

We were each designed with a purpose. Talents, skills, abilities whatever you want to call them and we are expected to use them. For when we do we come alive, our heart and soul sing in harmony. Like a key that fits a long ago locked door, suddenly a whole different perspective on the world opens up to us.

Desires. I yearn to create and have since I was young.

Drawing, painting, writing it all stirs the passions inside of me. I also strive to encourage others and share with others, to make us all not feel so alone. When I draw or write I sense the presence of God and my soul finds rest in the moment.

Distractions. And yet, I so often allow the things of this world weigh me down.

It is then, when my attitude and moods turn sour that those closest to me suffer the ill effects. So I encourage you to go, to chase your passions, to live! To find what makes you come alive, for the world desperately needs us to come alive. For then we can truly help and touch others at their point of need. It is your choice! Now I am off to edit that novel I have procrastinated finishing for so long! And some other endeavors that are calling to me!

What passions have you set aside that you will now allow to bleed?




Our shapes are soft.
Our edges round.
The boxes will morph,
and keep us bound.

They will push us.
They shut us in.
Don’t put us in a box,
don’t let them win.

We wear boxes everyday.
We shield our hearts.
From the pain we dread,
emerging in tomorrow’s dark.

A false hope.
The box is a curse.
Stealing our joys,
it preys upon our mirth.

Throw away the boxes.
Be just who you are.
Let not it stop you,
from following your own star.

~Mark Schutter Β©2015

A short simple poem about how we so often allow others, the world and the culture to define who we are and what we do.  Thus, the boxes we use to insulate and define ourselves based on someone else’s terms.  We must believe in who we were created to be and follow that destiny.