last spartan writing thrust
alright. so I was going fetal and then decided after a short break to bust into another entry after my last private post.
I'm posting much more private as of late, pulling more in, keep more in, to myself. it's a nice feeling. protective.
I realize after so many hours spent "catching up" on correspondence and such online things that I have so far still to go...
I hope that people will forgive the long long response time that I occasionally have when replying to emails, facebook/myspace messages... honestly since I have gone a bit social networking mad, I have not been able to even read or open all of my messages, event invites and the like, much less respond to them. it is nothing against everyone, it is just the reality of things. I am spending more hours again online, which is both good and bad, but still there is no way to properly devote enough time to each and every beautiful soul in my life. It's so wonderful to meet and know so many talented and passionate people in the arts.
the other current frustration I have is that I have so many "back burner" projects which really, I feel, should be made into "front burner" projects soon, or they will be likely to flicker out and return to the dust they were created from. I'm talking a few poetry books (one big, two tiny), some songwriting and experimental vocal recording, unfinished paintings (commissions included), writing to keep backdating/entering into my livejournal, blogs I have forgotten about, my website which is sad and needs to be entirely reworked (actually, replaced with a new one - soon to happen)... the list goes on. I have sketchbooks filled with ideas of performances and installations which I may or may not want to actually realize... but it would be lovely to have the time to evaluate that for myself rather than just have the ideas be buried within an ever flowing Time that is unrelenting.
this isn't just a frustration post...
I also resolve this year to write more again.. last year my writing felt stunted and I'm not entirely sure why. I overcommitted to much and continually pushed myself to limits week in and week out, on this pendulum swing between exhilaration and burn out. This year I am going to just have to find a different strategy, because the marathons are longer and the prizes bigger upon completion. I need to somehow keep the creative energy high over a longer period of time and stay steadfast with all this, and at the same time keep a grip on LIFE. ha! it sounds easier than it is.. working absolutely nonstop I still would not be through everything I need to be in the next several months, but I'm going to make a ginormous and strong attempt at doing as much as I possibly can within reason (as in, I need to still find time for life, people, food, sleep, and it's time to up the yoga/swimming again)...
the artist really has a difficult lot in life, you know? I mean honestly, it's fabulous to be given creative gifts as we are, and it is a luxury to be able to live and work as an artist, it really is. I am so blessed. even when I have not a dollar to spend, during the low curve of the financial rollercoaster that is what my life often consists of, I am rich beyond belief. The people who are my coworkers are my best friends, my family, my soulmates, the most talented and amazing people I know. We may struggle in terms of "worldly" things often, that is true. At least, speaking for myself, I can say that the struggle, all of it, the rollercoasters, the seeming lack of understanding from society, the inner angst and creative struggle, the feelings of alienation, the hours of painstaking work to create a work that may be completely misunderstood or even worse, simply commodified and consumed... and the tremendous pressure (both external and internal)... ALL of it is worth it in the end. I would not trade my life for the world.
It's easy to always want more. It's tempting to fall into moments of self pity or anger at the world. I think though, with continual hard work, that ultimately one's dreams can be made manifest. somehow, my dreams are being made manifest, and I thank God for this, I thank everyone who is and has been a support and help to me throughout it all. It's possible to achieve "success" as an artist prior to your deathbed or beyond. I'm so tired of the "starving artist" term and also the term "emerging". Yes, I am still "emerging" according to the use of the term. I do not have exclusive gallery representation; I represent myself mainly. I do not have work selling for exorbitant amounts of money (although the value of my work is rising and my collector base is growing, thank God), hundreds of thousands of green little pieces of paper.. at the same time, I have been a working professional artist since I was 12, technically. I was a professional artist before I even understood the meaning of it all. I still can't claim to understand the meaning of it all, and I still wonder what my full purpose is on this earth, but I have more of an idea. One artist can be viewed as "emerging" and have been working for 20 years, another can be viewed as having hit success due to being "discovered" at an earlier point, by X Swanky Gallery... it's all pretty insane and often absurd, honestly.
I'm a bit disjointed in my thoughts and in my sentences.
it's 7:30 am and I've been at this laptop for longer than I care to admit.
my sentences are made up of - ?
mainstream phrases?
ah, the mainstream. I battle and embrace its currents simultaneously.
I throw rocks at its waters and scream under its surface.
I'm so tired of others dictating how and when I should live.
when and where it is appropriate and not. what is appropriate and how is it so.
I pull away from society on a regular basis, withdraw into my incubation chamber where it is warm and safe. quiet under the night's sky.
time flows on whether I am inside or within, outside, moving or standing still, I am still moving.
still my body's cells change, my skin changes, my eyes grow tired and hold even more secrets behind their glass.
there is nothing I can do to stop time, but sometimes it does speed faster than others, dragging.
being so surfacely public my private life vanishes into itself
because dreams have a tendency to vanish
in the struggle for image
image is not dream
dream is not image
dream is heart-reality
in my dreams my heart beats loud
my heart feels
in my dreams fear is real
physical things may be permeable
but the soul is real
it screams as the physical body flies weightless
the heart beats in fear as its father's life is threatened
death is a fear in every nightmare a reality
life is not truly lived when taken for granted
threaten to take it away and suddenly its value rises
skyrocketing value of fleeting short moments
money is irrelevant, beauty is less plastic
life is more real
you are more precious
and the essence of things is revealed.
(&
in the cosmic vat,
I really do crave chocolate.
I'm posting much more private as of late, pulling more in, keep more in, to myself. it's a nice feeling. protective.
I realize after so many hours spent "catching up" on correspondence and such online things that I have so far still to go...
I hope that people will forgive the long long response time that I occasionally have when replying to emails, facebook/myspace messages... honestly since I have gone a bit social networking mad, I have not been able to even read or open all of my messages, event invites and the like, much less respond to them. it is nothing against everyone, it is just the reality of things. I am spending more hours again online, which is both good and bad, but still there is no way to properly devote enough time to each and every beautiful soul in my life. It's so wonderful to meet and know so many talented and passionate people in the arts.
the other current frustration I have is that I have so many "back burner" projects which really, I feel, should be made into "front burner" projects soon, or they will be likely to flicker out and return to the dust they were created from. I'm talking a few poetry books (one big, two tiny), some songwriting and experimental vocal recording, unfinished paintings (commissions included), writing to keep backdating/entering into my livejournal, blogs I have forgotten about, my website which is sad and needs to be entirely reworked (actually, replaced with a new one - soon to happen)... the list goes on. I have sketchbooks filled with ideas of performances and installations which I may or may not want to actually realize... but it would be lovely to have the time to evaluate that for myself rather than just have the ideas be buried within an ever flowing Time that is unrelenting.
this isn't just a frustration post...
I also resolve this year to write more again.. last year my writing felt stunted and I'm not entirely sure why. I overcommitted to much and continually pushed myself to limits week in and week out, on this pendulum swing between exhilaration and burn out. This year I am going to just have to find a different strategy, because the marathons are longer and the prizes bigger upon completion. I need to somehow keep the creative energy high over a longer period of time and stay steadfast with all this, and at the same time keep a grip on LIFE. ha! it sounds easier than it is.. working absolutely nonstop I still would not be through everything I need to be in the next several months, but I'm going to make a ginormous and strong attempt at doing as much as I possibly can within reason (as in, I need to still find time for life, people, food, sleep, and it's time to up the yoga/swimming again)...
the artist really has a difficult lot in life, you know? I mean honestly, it's fabulous to be given creative gifts as we are, and it is a luxury to be able to live and work as an artist, it really is. I am so blessed. even when I have not a dollar to spend, during the low curve of the financial rollercoaster that is what my life often consists of, I am rich beyond belief. The people who are my coworkers are my best friends, my family, my soulmates, the most talented and amazing people I know. We may struggle in terms of "worldly" things often, that is true. At least, speaking for myself, I can say that the struggle, all of it, the rollercoasters, the seeming lack of understanding from society, the inner angst and creative struggle, the feelings of alienation, the hours of painstaking work to create a work that may be completely misunderstood or even worse, simply commodified and consumed... and the tremendous pressure (both external and internal)... ALL of it is worth it in the end. I would not trade my life for the world.
It's easy to always want more. It's tempting to fall into moments of self pity or anger at the world. I think though, with continual hard work, that ultimately one's dreams can be made manifest. somehow, my dreams are being made manifest, and I thank God for this, I thank everyone who is and has been a support and help to me throughout it all. It's possible to achieve "success" as an artist prior to your deathbed or beyond. I'm so tired of the "starving artist" term and also the term "emerging". Yes, I am still "emerging" according to the use of the term. I do not have exclusive gallery representation; I represent myself mainly. I do not have work selling for exorbitant amounts of money (although the value of my work is rising and my collector base is growing, thank God), hundreds of thousands of green little pieces of paper.. at the same time, I have been a working professional artist since I was 12, technically. I was a professional artist before I even understood the meaning of it all. I still can't claim to understand the meaning of it all, and I still wonder what my full purpose is on this earth, but I have more of an idea. One artist can be viewed as "emerging" and have been working for 20 years, another can be viewed as having hit success due to being "discovered" at an earlier point, by X Swanky Gallery... it's all pretty insane and often absurd, honestly.
I'm a bit disjointed in my thoughts and in my sentences.
it's 7:30 am and I've been at this laptop for longer than I care to admit.
my sentences are made up of - ?
mainstream phrases?
ah, the mainstream. I battle and embrace its currents simultaneously.
I throw rocks at its waters and scream under its surface.
I'm so tired of others dictating how and when I should live.
when and where it is appropriate and not. what is appropriate and how is it so.
I pull away from society on a regular basis, withdraw into my incubation chamber where it is warm and safe. quiet under the night's sky.
time flows on whether I am inside or within, outside, moving or standing still, I am still moving.
still my body's cells change, my skin changes, my eyes grow tired and hold even more secrets behind their glass.
there is nothing I can do to stop time, but sometimes it does speed faster than others, dragging.
being so surfacely public my private life vanishes into itself
because dreams have a tendency to vanish
in the struggle for image
image is not dream
dream is not image
dream is heart-reality
in my dreams my heart beats loud
my heart feels
in my dreams fear is real
physical things may be permeable
but the soul is real
it screams as the physical body flies weightless
the heart beats in fear as its father's life is threatened
death is a fear in every nightmare a reality
life is not truly lived when taken for granted
threaten to take it away and suddenly its value rises
skyrocketing value of fleeting short moments
money is irrelevant, beauty is less plastic
life is more real
you are more precious
and the essence of things is revealed.
(&
in the cosmic vat,
I really do crave chocolate.