Art, musings and lazy piracy.
Why is this happening??!
As someone who generally does not like to talk about themselves, the idea of blogging seems a completely tedious irony. I've tried doing blogs before, but they never took. And yet, over the course of my adult life I have filled journals with dreams and poetry, sketches, fears and desires. It was easy, and natural for me because it was private. So, why am I bothering at all with a public blog that makes me squirm at the very idea? Because there's a difference in not liking to talk and having things you want or need to say. I'm at a point in my life where it's time to step beyond my comfort zone.
I'm someone who has had bursts of expression and yet held their hands of cards very close, to the point that some of my self expression has quite literally and purposefully been buried.
Painting in progress, first stage. Acrylic on canvas.
I recently dug up art and writing that I had just been sitting on and that has never seen the light of day. There were some works that I was astounded that I had even done, and the reasons for not sharing them were ridiculous, like guilt or fear of ridicule or non acceptance. A lot of old baggage just revolving endlessly in a broken down carousel.
I am currently enduring a regeneration- think Doctor Who- with me, version 11, emerging with quite a bit of vigor. It's due in part to some change in my chronic health condition, recent awakenings and violent inspiration, and an obvious dose of midlife crisis. As such, I find myself doing this retrospective over the whole of my life up until now.
Soliloquies?
To be honest, I really hate social media. It feels like a bunch of people in a huge room either talking to themselves loudly or gathering in little cliques to publicly pat each other on the back. It gives me flashbacks to high school. To make things worse, I was always that kid who got on their report card "needs to participate in class" repeatedly. So again, why the hell am I doing this? Because part of me has always felt unheard, and has gone unheard because of how guarded I have been. If I'm going to go so far as to call up ghosts, I should let them say their piece. I'm beyond tired of caring more about what people think about what I could and do say, than about what I actually have to express.
So there you have it.
Maybe I'm talking to the air on here, but seeing as how I have an going Hamlet problem, I know at least in terms of him, I'm in good company.
I refuse to make this like those obnoxious recipe blogs, where all I want is the damn instructions for the cookies because I'm hungry and I've no patience for the irrelevant discussions about jogging or yoga or the cute things pets or children have done. I'm here for food, give me THE FOOD.
So I promise, that if you deign to read this, it will be short, sweet and direct about whatever topic is nagging at me. There will also be plenty of art. Cheers.
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