Creeva’s World 2.0

This was my bed­room wall back in high school — one day the sum­mer before my senior year I started by paint­ing my ini­tials on the wall.  It grew over time.   Friends came over they signed the wall, I painted the names of my clos­est friends and girl­friends of dif­fer­ent eras on the wall.  It was a work of art, and epic time of my life.   It was a liv­ing diary that shared infor­ma­tion with those who entered and those who embraced it.

Every time some­one came over some­thing was added or removed from the wall.  It went so far that even some par­ents signed it.   It was a moment at time which I lived and breathed inside my mural, it was an exten­sion of myself that I didn’t have for years.

When I moved out to go to col­lege my brother inher­ited my room.   Out when the mural, lost under paint was the soul that pre­vi­ously breathed into that room.  After my brother, two of my sis­ters inher­ited that room.  None of them kept up the mural tra­di­tion.   Part of me had hoped my sib­lings would have taken up the torch, either tak­ing their own wall or paint­ing over the areas I had painted and made it their own.

Now it’s a plain painted wall and the pic­tures above are all that exists of the soul that lies beneath the cur­rent paint.

My blog now is my mod­ern mural.  Granted my friends don’t par­tic­i­pate here like they did back then, but the blog I think is more ethe­real to them as the wall was all those years ago.   It doesn’t give them a chance to leave their mark the way the tan­gi­ble wall allowed them to exist.   The pic­ture was take a week or two before I left for col­lege.    I lost myself after that.    Lost was my child­hood and the friend­ships I left behind.  Mov­ing on from the past and onto the next stage of my life.    I am myself and no other.    I have parts of myself that have been painted over and will never again emerge.   Still for those that know, part of myself will always shine through because they know what exists beneath paint.