Wonderfully Imperfect

About This Site

i am a woman on the edge -- on the edge of greatness, of mania, and of wonder and amazement, all at the same time.

i am an artist and a corporate refugee, who has struggled and derailed and been really STUCK....and who continually dusts herself off.

here i share my artistic and personal journey, and how i became known as the "princess of getting up again" and the "imp-ress of imperfection"

it's a celebration of continually focusing on "being where i am," and never coming from a place of lack or "not good enough". it's a celebration of being "wonderfully imperfect", and you're invited!

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Broken-ness

a friend shared recently about her “broken” family

i realized that although i came from a very dysfunctional home
(hey, didn’t we ALL?),
i never really thought of my family or myself as being “broken”
until my older sister died,
when i was in my early twenties.

the alcoholism, the learned behaviors of manipulation and lying
...feeling like an imposter....WHATEVER:
i knew where that came from, worked on it...still am…
...but just figured it was the usual “stuff” of life.

i loved my family and felt loved.

then my oldest sister died.
her death was the first of many,
but the most significant in our family,
if one can ever consider the idea of “prioritizing” multiple losses of that nature.

my mother never put up a christmas tree again.
never had a major family dinner or major gathering.
never opened the boxes of her things, sent to us by my brother-in-law.

somehow, it was the beginning of the end
and the undoing of an already fractured family.
we were all adults,
but each began “acting out” in various ways.

add to it a few major illnesses and breakdowns, losses and events,
plus some more deaths along the way,
and it became not a matter of “breaking with my tribe”
but realizing that the few of us left in the tribe were too broken
and had not much to give to ourselves, much less anyone else.

no wonder i married a man with his own breakages,
and created my own, new broken family with his children
and his ex.

it was what i knew.
drama was comfortable.
crisis and chaos were normal to me.

somewhere along the way,
i began recognize that i have a tendency to self destruct.
i own the choices i have made.
the reasons have roots in the past, but if i continue those choices,
i am affirming my broken-ness.

so i struggle against it, on a daily basis.

yet ---at the same time---
i value the “broken-ness” of where i am and have been.

i do not believe i could not begin to create the things i am working on for myself,
had i been complacent.

out of anguish comes light.
(although it DOES take it’s sweet fxxx-ing time!)

when i create a mantel for someone,
using broken china & seashells & stones,
i marvel at the BEAUTY created with broken things.

so i tell myself
(when i once in a while fall into a whiny mode, or into “victim-land"),
that “broken” is synonymous with REBIRTH.

maybe it’s the Scorpio in me, but “breaking with your tribe”
suggests to me the story of CREATION....

...of a glimmer of light shining over the dark, dark lake.

...of a new race, a new people, a new planet.

not such a bad thing.

Posted by Nancy Vittoria Bello on 05/26 at 05:07 AM
Rebirth and Other Journeys • (0) Comments • (0) Trackbacks • Permalink