Booshwa

All That I Am
2003-07-17 06:02:25 (UTC)

The Impossible Demands of Life and Art

I'm reading "The Hours" and it's turning out to be a very
good book but kinda depressing and it got me thinking about
things. I've always wondered what goes on in the mind of
someone who's about to commit suicide. Is there a sense of
empowerment that they beat chance to the punch? Are they
filled with rage and confusion because circumstances put
them in this situation? Or do they feel relieved that
they're leaving behind the impossible demands of life and
art to be happy and make meaning out of everything? I'm
kinda in that mode right now....not suicidal or anything
but feeling rather bereft of emotion...like my head just
feels empty...kinda hard to explain the feeling....

I mentioned in earlier entries that I have a crutch when it
comes to art. Mainly my fear of being mundane...ordinary.
I'm afraid to draw a face because I think I'll miss a
wrinkle or mess up the way an eye curves or how lips purse
together. I was going through my old art tablets the other
day and left them feeling empty and somewhat devastated.
They're all someone else's work, someone else's vision.
I've never been able to just draw from my mind's eye. I
only draw what I saw. All of my art has no meaning to me. I
had at one point considered majoring in art but chickened
out because I realized then what was staring me in the face
the other day...I'm a phony. More depressing still is the
reality that art immitates life. My art is dead and mute
because I am.

Okay maybe I need to stop reading "The Hours" because
seriously that's how all three of the women in the book are
analyzed and it's really got me thinking. I wonder whether
all my happy go lucky, easy going, blah blah blah is just a
shell and there's not much else deep down but a lot of hurt
and misery. Okay I'm getting depressed now....happy
thoughts...happy thoughts....I guess it's just a passing
feeling...wow...I just kinda sat down at the computer and
this is what came out...I'm sure I'll read this tomorrow
and think I'm flipping out or something....maybe. Later.




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