seldomly voiced.
writing in this thing is so awkward now. They probably put an LJ chip in the brains of our generation that activates between ages 14-18 and then slowly runs out of batteries as you get into your twenties. Or I might just be too winded to tell the truth. Either way...
In retrospect, the past two years have been a trial. Starting with the humble idea that if you pour yourself into your art, some rules don't apply. Or at least, you abide by guidelines given only by yourself. An obvious conclusion, but one that has driven me down a path I could have never predicted. By tying the reigns to my inspiration, I've been dragged across foreign landscapes, which are beginning to seem less foreign. More like familiar, and not in a nostalgic sense. I feel like hundred-year-old light is shining through my bedroom window, while i sleep. Unnatural in the most subtle way. A quaint idea of destiny, despite the absurdity. Yet, to the artist, the idea of recycled talent (while appalling) is not so far-fetched. It doesn't mean you can predict a phenomenon, it means that inspiration (like everything else) has a cause and effect. Now, although it would be impossible to determine a universal cause or a universal effect, websters defines inspiration as "a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation". So a 'divine action' and a 'sacred revelation'? Sounds a little scary. Yet, can a divine action be an instant of fear? passion? hate? What kind of revelation would be held as sacred to you? The truth is they're connected all along. Your brain just buries the chain underneath the barrier between the left side and the right side. So when a trigger is activated, as if by destiny, it animates some portion of the right side, causing what seems like inspiration. When in fact, it's just your mind being really honest with itself and the rest of your body, sometimes filling you in on information you may have never had any idea you contained.
like the information on a song you've never heard.
a painting of a person you've never seen.
a story from a time you could have never known.
recovered memories.
but where the hell do they come from? Is it possible your mind locks up tiny little easter eggs for you to find when you're old enough to appreciate them? or is it something that happens when you incur trauma, or pleasure that is memorable? Or are they things you may have never known yourself? Inherited somehow.
but inherited from what?
or who?
...
but, hopefully, I'm not possessed.
this is why i work best alone, and why I am an artist.
In retrospect, the past two years have been a trial. Starting with the humble idea that if you pour yourself into your art, some rules don't apply. Or at least, you abide by guidelines given only by yourself. An obvious conclusion, but one that has driven me down a path I could have never predicted. By tying the reigns to my inspiration, I've been dragged across foreign landscapes, which are beginning to seem less foreign. More like familiar, and not in a nostalgic sense. I feel like hundred-year-old light is shining through my bedroom window, while i sleep. Unnatural in the most subtle way. A quaint idea of destiny, despite the absurdity. Yet, to the artist, the idea of recycled talent (while appalling) is not so far-fetched. It doesn't mean you can predict a phenomenon, it means that inspiration (like everything else) has a cause and effect. Now, although it would be impossible to determine a universal cause or a universal effect, websters defines inspiration as "a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation". So a 'divine action' and a 'sacred revelation'? Sounds a little scary. Yet, can a divine action be an instant of fear? passion? hate? What kind of revelation would be held as sacred to you? The truth is they're connected all along. Your brain just buries the chain underneath the barrier between the left side and the right side. So when a trigger is activated, as if by destiny, it animates some portion of the right side, causing what seems like inspiration. When in fact, it's just your mind being really honest with itself and the rest of your body, sometimes filling you in on information you may have never had any idea you contained.
like the information on a song you've never heard.
a painting of a person you've never seen.
a story from a time you could have never known.
recovered memories.
but where the hell do they come from? Is it possible your mind locks up tiny little easter eggs for you to find when you're old enough to appreciate them? or is it something that happens when you incur trauma, or pleasure that is memorable? Or are they things you may have never known yourself? Inherited somehow.
but inherited from what?
or who?
...
but, hopefully, I'm not possessed.
this is why i work best alone, and why I am an artist.