June 19

I usually go through my life feeling either sad, or content. Happy is a precious, rare gem. A gem I haven't held in a while lately. Then early this morning, around 4:00 am I realized I should probably get to sleep if I wanted to wake up at a relatively human hour. So, I turn off my light, snuggle into my bed (it was freakishly cold), close my eyes, and start the battle to get my conscious to quiet long enough for me to allow my subconscious to take over and let me sleep. While laying there, I started seeing images on the back of my eyelids. I child with a bucket on his head, a girl with outspread arms before a scene of wreckage. In other words, my imagination was working for the first time in a while. I immediately jumped out of bed, turned my light on, and proceeded to doodle furiously. And the surprising thing? I did it. I managed to transfer what I saw in my head on paper. And I felt... excited? Free? No. Happy. I was freaking ecstatic. After several months of being unable to tap into any form of my creativity, I suddenly had all sorts of images spilling forth. I managed to break through the block that had been keeping me from drawing for weeks.

Most people have things they are naturally good at, or something that gives them comfort. For some, it's writing, for others, sitting down with a history anthology and reading the whole while retaining every detail. I can't do that. History bores me. No matter how much the author tries to make it exciting, it still feels like an 80 year-old droning on and on in a monotone voice. Writing also doesn't come too naturally to me. Hell, I'd even go so far as to say I suck at it. Every time I write, my mind is working on hyperspeed. It's mentally exhausting for me. I have to be able to go back and revise. I. Have. To. In fact, in this one paragraph alone, I've gone back and edited, moved around, and revised about 6 times. SIX times, for one paragraph, in a BLOG. It has to do with my somewhat perfectionist nature, I suppose. So, I found a hobby/talent that doesn't bore me too much, or make me think too hard. Art. It's a perfect balance. It's kind of an innate sense for me half the time. So, while I am conciously thinking about composition, proportion, balance, movement, unity, etc., I am subconciously moving my pencil, I am subconciously noting specific details, and I am subconciously arranging what I'm doing in what is aesthetic to me. The key, I think, is the use of personal pronouns. I, me, mine. It's me. Art is something I do for me. I don't do it to impress people, I don't do it to be able to say, "Yeah, I am an artist." I do it so I can say, "I did that. With my own hands," and be damn proud of it. And my nature shows in my art. I'm not someone who likes to stand out. I do what I can to fit in as much as I can. And it shows in my reluctance to be daring, or to try new things. But I'll let you in on a little secret, since you've read this far...

I hate that.

I hate not being able to think outside of the box.
I hate being scared to try something new.
and I absolutely hate my reluctance to show myself- to express myself- as fully as I want to.

Isn't that what art is supposed to be? Self-expression. Granted, for artists who make a living producing art, there's the commercial aspect, that sometimes prevents from full, or even partial expression.

Oh, well. Just some random for the people who read this (which is between 0-1).

Hopefully I'll be able to produce more. I have a commission. Want to get more, but beggers can't be choosers.

p.s. I need ideas for my summer homework. It's traditional media, but that doesn't really restrict me (except that it cost money). I have a blanck 9x11 canvas that I want to paint on, but I have no idea what to paint on said canvas. Help?

p.s.s.
Phoenix - Lisztomania (Classixx Version) Fun song. :]