10/29/2006: "Existential Crisis Part XIII"
First off, I donít seem to be updating this thing much these days. Iím trying to write more about my life as an artist, and less about my personal life (in part due to some creepy emails I got a few weeks back). It cuts down on the things I have to say since I havenít been making a lot of art lately. But at what point can your art and your life exist independently of each other? That line has always been the toughest one for me to draw.
Maybe Iím having an identity crisis. I've been operating so far outside my comfort zone for so long now that I barely recognize myself. Friday night I invited a man over for dinner (gasp!). Sat. night I went to that huge Halloween costume party dressed like a trashy beer maven and danced and socialized with a group of complete strangers. Iím answering my phone. People stop by and I let them in. I go places, do things.
And in the corner of what used to be my studio is a single easel with a solitary painting that Iíve been working on for months and no other work in sight. I met another artist at the party last night who talked about how difficult it was to factor in studio time after working a nine to five job and maintaining a social life but didnít seem that worried about it at all.
I feel very worried. And itís not like I donít have the time because I do. Sat. afternoon I had the entire day free. I could have painted all afternoon if Iíd *wanted* to. Instead I ran errands, visited a friend, and went for a hike. I guess that is my deepest fear. That my *desire* to create is waning. I have gone through many dry spells, but during those dry spells at least I was *trying* to work. At least I wanted to more than anything but maybe the ideas werenít there. Thatís scary enough, but what happens if the ideas arenít there and you start to not care?
Besides, I kind of miss the old me... the anti-social hermit who wanted nothing more than to create the perfect work of beauty.