Most of my young life I´ve been told that I was too slow.
A daydreamer. That I need to pick up speed.
I did not manage to finish class tests in school nor was I particularly fast in any sport activity. I took longer to learn how to tie my shoes and I generally felt like I had a hard time keeping up with everyone else.
At times I felt pretty stupid and worthless.
Speed is such a "virtue" in this world. If you´re fast, it means you´re effective. I started overcompensating when I went into the job world. I accumulated waaay over 100 extra hours within the first few months.
I could meet every deadline, no matter how tight. And still somehow managed to blog daily and keep up a digital art community.
Need I tell you that I felt burnt out after a few years? Duh.
I have a lot of compassion for the part in me that wants to go fast in order to be loved. I´m not fully "cured" of this speed disease and I notice it when I get impatient with myself. Nothing is fun anymore, everything becomes a to-do on a never-ending list.
Then I step outside and meet this amazing being. So slow, yet everything gets accomplished. So vulnerable, yet a piece of art. (I truly urge you to take a closer look at a snail´s shell. There´s some true mastery happening and they aren´t even aware of it.)
We are not made to run all the time. Slow means going deep. Showing respect. A wisdom that things take their time and cannot be rushed.
The Roman Snail* is such a beauty. They are still under conservation and there is so much we can learn from them.
*loves calcerous soil because there it’s shell becomes thicker.
nov/2021
jacobvanloon
blakekathryn
areudirty
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
gummygunk
origamiaround
