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01/24/2007: "More tales from a broken record"
We were out eating pizza on a Saturday night when the zombie movie “Resident Evil” started playing on their big screen TV.
Me: “Back when I used to paint, I watched this movie all the time”.
He: “Did you hear what you just said? *Back* when you *used* to paint?”
I just put my hands over my eyes and felt a huge internal cringe…it really hit me how much I’ve started thinking of my artist self in the past tense.
My longtime friend Julie says that lately I’ve seemed more like the Old Elise she knew back in our Anchorage days, back when I threw parties a lot and had tons of friends and activities going on in my life. She says that I seem so happy. But can an artist really even find happiness if they aren’t making art? And if they can, then are they really an artist after all?