Sunday, October 14, 2018

Dead Inside

I am dead inside without my art. It's what drives my soul, creates my happiness. Without happiness, I cease to exist and merely try to survive. I liken it to working on an assembly line (or what I perceive, as what that would be like). Connecting the widget to the whatchamacallit, for eight hours a day, five days a week, for the rest of your life..or at least till you "retire" and spend the rest of your life acting as a mere participant, on the path to that inevitable end. Not that there is anything wrong with working on assembly line (it's honorable work) I just couldn't do it.

I am an artist. An artist who occasionally wonders to himself, what if I would have taken the path of others, I have known? What would have happened, if I kept that union job at 18 and continued to spend the rest of my life, sleepwalking. However I didn’t choose that path, instead I chose to follow my if, I had a choice.

As an artist, you don't have a choice. Or actually you do. You can choose to ignore your calling and spit in the face of the blessing you have received or you can choose to embrace the blessing and share it with others. I have chosen is the latter. This is not a financial choice (I have to keep reminding myself of this fact). If you make this choice to for financial gain, you are a fool. You make this choice, because you have no choice. A true artist, can’t live without creating. Without creating, you cease to exist.

Over the last few months, I have started to cease to exist and have paid the consequences. No creation, equals a declining lust for life. Besides loosing sight of my passion for my art, I was loosing my passion for life, the thrill of the chase, for lust in life. I missed the touch, I missed the endorphins..I missed life.

Life is back...