Invisible Ink

My invisible ink knows me better than I know myself. 
It sings to me in my sleep, it speaks to me in all my waking hours, and it shouts at me on the blank page. It fills the page with an avalanche of feelings, yearning to be SEEN. The invisible ink runs through me in every fleeting moment. And it also runs YOU.
You, too, have an invisible ink following your every breathing move. It may not speak to you in the same way as mine does. Yours may shout at you on the road, and reveals its RAGE to you unconsciously, or perhaps it shows it's wondrous self in the meal you cook to yourself, or maybe you are an artist drawing their soul, or a mother weaving her best tactics putting a toddler to sleep, or a lawyer crafting her case. The invisible ink is a shared bond between all of us. And no matter what ground we hail from, or what gender if any we identify with, or what are values are - the invisible ink speaks through us with every fiber of our being. It is life force, the inner life force, showing itself - yearning to be visible. It's the blind spots we all have to ourselves. It's our most inner selves. It's the invisible ink of our being. 

Art makes the invisible visible. The invisible ink is the playground and the clay for an artist. But it is not only for the artist. It's for every human. Are YOU human? Great! Then go write in a journal! Or have a date with yourself! Or make music! Or make dinner! Or make love! And carefully listen to your invisible song, and look closely to see your invisible ink.