04/04/2005: "On Melting (down)"
Sometimes (and I know this isn’t unique to me) the ideas for new projects (paintings, stories etc.) are like a plague in the brain; ya can’t really focus but it’s exciting because it feels like your own bottomless well (and conservation is for suckers). You think, happily (and against all previous experience to the contrary) that this will last forever…you feel (delusions of grandeur anyone?) like a genius who will never suffer the same kind of drought that other, less fortunates…have to face.
Every microbe you see, ever word you hear, is literally dripping with untapped potential. The heart races, the busy little hands try to keep up, the sleep is minimal.
And like Icarus flying to close too the sun, the wings melt and before you know it, you’re not just back on the ground but in a hole you made from the force of your own fat ass. darkness. no ideas. sleepy brain, tired hands…wondering, how the fuck did I get down here? And more importantly, how do I get my wings back?
by the way, anytime I make an entry where I talk about some idea I've had I'm going to type the words "project idea" in the entry somewhere so later I can search my blog's archives and find them when (like now) I'm feeling tapped out.