Yet Another Imbecile Kennedy
22 minutes ago
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The long-avoided panic attack about Quartz Mountain (I am feeling better now...):
June 10th, 2009
Someone:
I feel like a phony, like an artistic impostor. I am packing for Quartz Mountain, unwrapping all my new supplies, many of which I have not used in years or never at all. I can easily envision arriving to my first class, brand new, embarrassingly unused supplies in tote and surrounded by brilliantly creative people that have devoted every fibre of their being and every spare moment of their time to art and creative growth. The will be wielding gunked-up, much loved supplies that have been hardened by the sweat of their tireless devotion. I have only just realized, Someone, that I will be the amateur. It is obvious that I got in via fluke and now I have wasted a month of potential preparation time doing NOTHING to become a better artist.
A label myself an artist with my "studio" and closet and haircut, but has it ever occurred to you that I rarely produce? I spend my evenings before a television, a fucking TELEVISION! I am thus an impostor because I paint myself an artist then follow up with no art.
And if I am not an artist, then what am I? I have never considered myself anything else.
So my point is this, Someone:
If I do not get my petty little life together and begin doing art at all times, I will continue to be a fraud and become a hollow, useless person. My precious time to live will slide into a void, wasted with meandering bullshit because, when I am not creating or thinking about creating, I am wasting time.
"There's not one day that you are living that has been promised to you."
~Ben Harper
Now that I've vented I can seek eternal contentment again... wow
Elise (My brow is seriously furrowed)
June 10th, 2009
Someone:
I feel like a phony, like an artistic impostor. I am packing for Quartz Mountain, unwrapping all my new supplies, many of which I have not used in years or never at all. I can easily envision arriving to my first class, brand new, embarrassingly unused supplies in tote and surrounded by brilliantly creative people that have devoted every fibre of their being and every spare moment of their time to art and creative growth. The will be wielding gunked-up, much loved supplies that have been hardened by the sweat of their tireless devotion. I have only just realized, Someone, that I will be the amateur. It is obvious that I got in via fluke and now I have wasted a month of potential preparation time doing NOTHING to become a better artist.
A label myself an artist with my "studio" and closet and haircut, but has it ever occurred to you that I rarely produce? I spend my evenings before a television, a fucking TELEVISION! I am thus an impostor because I paint myself an artist then follow up with no art.
And if I am not an artist, then what am I? I have never considered myself anything else.
So my point is this, Someone:
If I do not get my petty little life together and begin doing art at all times, I will continue to be a fraud and become a hollow, useless person. My precious time to live will slide into a void, wasted with meandering bullshit because, when I am not creating or thinking about creating, I am wasting time.
"There's not one day that you are living that has been promised to you."
~Ben Harper
Now that I've vented I can seek eternal contentment again... wow
Elise (My brow is seriously furrowed)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I have not posted anything in an unusually long time, although I have been thinking many a new thing and growing up. I don't expect you to actually read all of this because it is incredibly redundant, but it is proof of my growth. I think I may be getting over myself. After all, self-awareness is the first step to ironing the kinks out of our approach to living. We'll see. Take note of the dates on which these excerpts were written. Enjoy...?
March 26, 2009
Someone:
. . . Either way, I have a new thought process that has joined my daily routine. As I fall asleep each night, I pray to a god (just in case) to keep the world safe. I promise myself that, if I am fortunate enough to wake the next morning, I will be grateful to live another day and I will be casual, assertive, painfully aware of the world, and HAPPY. The most challenging element of this scheme is its execution, obviously. . .
April 7, 2009
Someone:
. . . More essential an issue to speak of, however, are my newly defined purposes. I have been examining my composition and ambition for quite a while now and I have finally reached semi-steady ground. I believe this guilt I feel is entirely voluntary. It is a conscious decision to be tormented (at least in my case) and it is for this reason: I FEEL guilty in order to BE less guilty. Try to make sense of that. I am undeservingly fortunate, but I would theoretically be a worse human being if I did not A) recognize this and B) at least seek salvation from my ignorance. So you see, beloved Someone, the guilt I feel has actually the opposite purpose of true guilt– to salve my ignorance.
This "guilt" I feel is the force that drives my craving of the impoverished world. I intend to "earn" the fortune I was born into, to give my existence substance, righteousness, and, above all else, deservedness. It will also be my way of coping with the daunting impressions of mankind. Although it is pointless and wrong, I tend to want greatness in comparison with the entire human race. Instead of finding my peace as no one, I wage fierce competition on the artists and spiritually grounded people, which causes an unavoidable sense of defeat. Regardless, I recognize the redundant babble that appears in letter after letter after letter to you, Someone. . .
April 12, 2009
Someone:
HAPPY EASTER, beloved friend! I am not a religious person and yet Easter treats me to the same divinity as those who are devoted with every fiber of their being. There is a certain sense of life in the air. It is not Jesus Christ's risen soul, but rather a festival welcoming the new spring– rebirth. Those evangelicals are not so funny and odd as I traditionally regard them. Today it doesn't matter if the man was or was not divine because the sensation of rebirth is irrefutable in all manners. All day there has been a gentle rain, salving the rampant wildfires that have devouring Oklahoma and intensifying all the colors, saturating the grass and trees and flowers until they are almost unnaturally bright.
I have been experiencing my own little personal "rebirth" as well. Creativity has been rushing into me all day and I have finally crawled out of my inspirational ditch. . .
Pardon my scribbles, dear friend. I love you unconditionally and faithfully,
Elise
March 26, 2009
Someone:
. . . Either way, I have a new thought process that has joined my daily routine. As I fall asleep each night, I pray to a god (just in case) to keep the world safe. I promise myself that, if I am fortunate enough to wake the next morning, I will be grateful to live another day and I will be casual, assertive, painfully aware of the world, and HAPPY. The most challenging element of this scheme is its execution, obviously. . .
April 7, 2009
Someone:
. . . More essential an issue to speak of, however, are my newly defined purposes. I have been examining my composition and ambition for quite a while now and I have finally reached semi-steady ground. I believe this guilt I feel is entirely voluntary. It is a conscious decision to be tormented (at least in my case) and it is for this reason: I FEEL guilty in order to BE less guilty. Try to make sense of that. I am undeservingly fortunate, but I would theoretically be a worse human being if I did not A) recognize this and B) at least seek salvation from my ignorance. So you see, beloved Someone, the guilt I feel has actually the opposite purpose of true guilt– to salve my ignorance.
This "guilt" I feel is the force that drives my craving of the impoverished world. I intend to "earn" the fortune I was born into, to give my existence substance, righteousness, and, above all else, deservedness. It will also be my way of coping with the daunting impressions of mankind. Although it is pointless and wrong, I tend to want greatness in comparison with the entire human race. Instead of finding my peace as no one, I wage fierce competition on the artists and spiritually grounded people, which causes an unavoidable sense of defeat. Regardless, I recognize the redundant babble that appears in letter after letter after letter to you, Someone. . .
April 12, 2009
Someone:
HAPPY EASTER, beloved friend! I am not a religious person and yet Easter treats me to the same divinity as those who are devoted with every fiber of their being. There is a certain sense of life in the air. It is not Jesus Christ's risen soul, but rather a festival welcoming the new spring– rebirth. Those evangelicals are not so funny and odd as I traditionally regard them. Today it doesn't matter if the man was or was not divine because the sensation of rebirth is irrefutable in all manners. All day there has been a gentle rain, salving the rampant wildfires that have devouring Oklahoma and intensifying all the colors, saturating the grass and trees and flowers until they are almost unnaturally bright.
I have been experiencing my own little personal "rebirth" as well. Creativity has been rushing into me all day and I have finally crawled out of my inspirational ditch. . .
Pardon my scribbles, dear friend. I love you unconditionally and faithfully,
Elise
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
