I can only do what I know. I can only create from what I feel.
And when sadness has taken hold of your heart and floods it, the only way to escape the drowning is to express it. Expression is a way to breathe whilst submerged in the ebbs and flow of sorrow.
I realize that the only way to defeat sadness is to embrace it, to let it envelop your being. If you don’t want it to overwhelm, you have to befriend it. You must understand it and know it’s intricacies.
This is what I’ve come to know:
Sadness is black. It is what is left when all the other colors are muted. It is the shade of emptiness when reflection dies.
Sadness is a force and it comes in irregular insistent waves. It folds the fabric of your being into irregular shapes, pleated like a scar or crumpled like a wound. Sadness is both gentle and unrelenting; the texture is sometimes soothing, sometimes rough, but always on the edge of something desperate.
And when you have come to know sadness, it becomes pleasing. Sadness becomes a friend. It becomes alive. Thus, sadness becomes Melancholia. Sadness becomes beautiful.