It has truly been a minute since I last posted but perhaps it is time to explain why.
Quite frankly I feel like the happier I am, the less I am able to put my passions into my creativity. Perhaps I am looking at it the wrong way but its as if all that write, make, create, or whatever, has lost its full meaning. Like I am empty and my work is a bit of fraud.
Times like these I feel like I am an "artist" and not an ARTIST.
The distinction is this:
"artist" : a person who says they're an artist but really just kinda messes around with "art" or "artistic expression" like its just a hobby
ARTIST: a person who says they're an artist, and lives and breathes their artistic expression. Their art is their baby, their legacy that comes from the depths of their souls to the public arena for all to see and be affected by.
Times like now, where I am not feeling as inspired to create as an ARTIST, I tend to not like ANYTHING I make.
One might say I am simply being too critical of myself, but now when I talk of being an artist I feel like I am being a fraud because lately I havent created anything I would deem worth while but beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder.
So the point I guess is this, I am experiencing some sort of existential angst about my art, so I publish almost none of it. I mean this in all regards too, I don't like my paintings right now, and I don't even think what I'm writing right at this second is worth the server space let alone publishing it but I thought I would lay it all out there...
If you are still reading thank you, and I hope you continue to follow my blog.
If anyone would like to commission a piece from me, I am sure I would still find inspiration enough to make you something you would love, that is of course if you like what I have posted here.
Thoughts and comments are most appreciated. :)
I think you expressed this near perfectly, as an "artist" who has seen a few days as an "ARTIST". I often share this exact thought and take written poem and transform it into paper basketball, that way even when I feel depression for my craft, I can revel in my waste bin basketball prowess.
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