(no subject)
so i finished *the last island* last week. after nine straight months of working virtually every day anywhere from 2-9 hours, i was a little unsure of what to do with myself. the day after i finished, i woke up and i actually felt different, emotionally and even physically.
i've been doing my best to take it easy. i've been letting myself seize opportunities i'm in the habit of refusing--driving around with jad, tagging along on his errands, watching movies with sorren and not simultaneously drawing, answering every phone call. mostly in taking it easy i've been making time to DO nothing. my favorite thing to do right now is burn incense, listen to music and lie on the bed. i bought an obscenely comfortable futon bed in june, and i've been barely been in it but to sleep for four months. now i laze in it, think in it, phonecall in it, write in it--everything.
until the last week of my life, i had honestly forgotten how soothing it is to take a break, and i am very much enjoying taking nothing seriously. but there's a catch, and i know it; my relaxation is part of an agreement with myself, and eventually i gotta honor that agreement.
i can tell that i've changed since san diego. i think i've always gotten completely into things i enjoyed, particularly comics, and other things or people in my life have always suffered as a result. but in the years when we all lived together in san diego, i would take an adventure, a ride, a movie or a conversation with a friend before i would work on my artistic ideas. they never manifested; they never got done. they were always just ideas.
some time after moving up here, some time after starting art school, this changed and i became afraid. resolving to take my art seriously meant being afraid not to make it as an artist, and becoming attached enough to my work to get it done meant being attached enough to my work to take its fate and its acceptance personally. this continues to motivate me. for better or for worse, i work from a terror of oblivion. i work to succeed, and if i ever succeed i'll work to maintain my success. art is ego, but i've accepted this, and i believe a well-policed ego is a fit vehicle for delivering worthwhile and beautiful ideas.
this is my art life, and this is why even now in relaxing i fear doubt creeping on me. the agreement with myself i have to honor is never to sit idle so long that doubt can immobilize me. my own motion, my own aggressive pursuit of success is what makes success seem feasible; it's what makes my own inflated estimation of myself seem realistic and irrefutable.
jad's finished the first part of the book we're doing together, and whether i like it or not, i'm starting the pages on the first of the month--which means i gotta cram in as much taking it easy as possible between now and then, 'cause i have no idea how long this project will take.
i've been doing my best to take it easy. i've been letting myself seize opportunities i'm in the habit of refusing--driving around with jad, tagging along on his errands, watching movies with sorren and not simultaneously drawing, answering every phone call. mostly in taking it easy i've been making time to DO nothing. my favorite thing to do right now is burn incense, listen to music and lie on the bed. i bought an obscenely comfortable futon bed in june, and i've been barely been in it but to sleep for four months. now i laze in it, think in it, phonecall in it, write in it--everything.
until the last week of my life, i had honestly forgotten how soothing it is to take a break, and i am very much enjoying taking nothing seriously. but there's a catch, and i know it; my relaxation is part of an agreement with myself, and eventually i gotta honor that agreement.
i can tell that i've changed since san diego. i think i've always gotten completely into things i enjoyed, particularly comics, and other things or people in my life have always suffered as a result. but in the years when we all lived together in san diego, i would take an adventure, a ride, a movie or a conversation with a friend before i would work on my artistic ideas. they never manifested; they never got done. they were always just ideas.
some time after moving up here, some time after starting art school, this changed and i became afraid. resolving to take my art seriously meant being afraid not to make it as an artist, and becoming attached enough to my work to get it done meant being attached enough to my work to take its fate and its acceptance personally. this continues to motivate me. for better or for worse, i work from a terror of oblivion. i work to succeed, and if i ever succeed i'll work to maintain my success. art is ego, but i've accepted this, and i believe a well-policed ego is a fit vehicle for delivering worthwhile and beautiful ideas.
this is my art life, and this is why even now in relaxing i fear doubt creeping on me. the agreement with myself i have to honor is never to sit idle so long that doubt can immobilize me. my own motion, my own aggressive pursuit of success is what makes success seem feasible; it's what makes my own inflated estimation of myself seem realistic and irrefutable.
jad's finished the first part of the book we're doing together, and whether i like it or not, i'm starting the pages on the first of the month--which means i gotta cram in as much taking it easy as possible between now and then, 'cause i have no idea how long this project will take.