This may not ring true to you, but I find most of my life has been made up of inventing, then re-inventing myself over and over again. Always in search of a definition of who I really am. Always trying to label myself with something to show who I am, both to the world and to myself. I have sketched books packed with re-invented ‘mes’. Wishing something was different, defining me. Wanting for a unique identity without fraud or plagiarizing.
My art tends to take a similar road, dabbling in styles, mediums and modes. I feel as though I am a Jack of all trades, master of none type of person. I have spoken about this before, and yet the ideas course through my weary mind keeping me awake at night, keeping me distracted from living in the here and now. I find myself reflecting back too frequently, and looking forward too often. Forgetting what is happening right now, and missing my life. I fear I will regret this, and so I struggle against the current, moving ahead slowly, and losing myself in the rapids from time to time, to wash upon new banks without recognition of the person I have just become.
My life moves quickly. One moment to the next without time to pause, enjoy and savour what is happening in its fullest extent.
Maybe that is the way it is supposed to be? Maybe I won’t truly know me, my art, my calling until the very end. If I continue to live in this fog though I will miss the signs, missing the roadway all together. Or am I on the road already and I need to just stop looking for more signs?
Wasted moments, travel forgotten, times missed. It makes me sad. I feel the need to break the cycle. But how? Where does someone even begin to free themselves from such a vicious pattern?
Too serious. Lost laughter. Too lost. Damnit! This is supposed to be joy blog … but we would not know the sweet without the sour.