The Bird, too big for the cage

Made some new art:

The bird is too big for the cage. She’s got the key behind her back, because she knows she did something naughty by letting the bird loose. But the bird was too giant for that tiny cage she was put in.
We put ourselves into these cages, these tiny boxed up cages in our lives, of convention and convenience, in the name of social acceptance.
Meanwhile, as people we grow and grow, and then we become to big for these cages that we entered into.
We become to giant for the cages that we thought would be our home, our comfort and our help.
Sometimes we just need to fly free.
I had a conversation with someone last night who reminded me of the ever cliche message that everything does indeed happen for a reason.
I love science, though. I do. And the truth is, sometimes life sucks. Sometimes people are assholes. And no, karma does NOT always hit them. But that’s the way life is. Everything is as it is, to teach, to mold, to shape who you are today, and who you will be. It is all part of the grand design of life.
There’s a line in a book of my daughters’ that reads,
“You can’t always triumph. You can’t always fly”.
I am a bird in the sky that longs to fly in the sky, but there are times in life when you must realize that it is time to heal, time to mend the wing.
Too large for the cage.
Why put ourselves in cages in the first place? Why bother with the conventional way of life, the tradition of what everyone else does? Not everyone is meant to have the white picket fence, and the stereotypical “American dream”.
Why not create your own dream? Don’t bother with the cage. Just fly free. And if you want someone to love, find someone to fly right along with you. Not someone who will lock you in the cage.

Currently listening to:


Diana Gonzalez

Diana Gonzalez is a self taught artist, writer and poet, formerly known as The Craftaholic.

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” 

-Jack Kerouac

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