Stress is hitting me like a hammer.... periodically throughout the day, I suddenly remember what's happening in my life....
This is it... this is the big enchilada... all career choices up to now had been chosen for the sake of failure.... something to do to pass the time until I die...
Now, I feel like there could be meaning to my life... LIke I could actually affect those around me, and share myself, and maybe somehow change something in the world... and if not change something, than inspire somebody else who does have the capacity to change something...
Five days left...
"Bam!" There's the hammer blow... stress creeping up my spine... making my brain pulse and swell... pushing at the back of my eyes...
I spend eight hours painting, and I can't tell what's changed on the canvas...
"Bam!" Another hammer....
I paint highlights on a principal figure on the canvas, and now it looks worse than before....
"Bam" I'm getting weak kneed here, being beaten on all day...
Six billion other people in the world, and yet somehow, I've turned the universe inside out, and I'm pointing all the arrows at myself... at each brushstroke... at each tick of the second-hand on the clock...
Ego-centric.... Or ratther, persona-centric, I suppose...
No eyes are on me, yet, I feel like apologising to everybody I meet on the street...
"Sorry, I'm so creepy... Sorry, I keep pretending I'm an artist..."
"Bam! Bam! BAM!" Hammers, and hammers, and even a few hammered-in nails...
I finish a painting tonight.... or at the very least I've finished it 98%... If I hung it on the wall tonight, nobody would ever think that it's incomplete...
Yet, rather than relief at having come one step closer to my self-imposed quota, instead I feel like crying...
Oohh.... crying.... That sounds good... I haven't had a good cry since my last breeak up.... I haven't had any cry at all since my last break up, now that I think about it...
I hope the cry comes soon, lest it come on the night of my opening....
I could see it... party going on... wine, cheese, cigars, friends, family, art, and I'm hiding in the bathroom, crying my little eyes out...
Just a tiny, wounded child stuck in a very adult moment....
"Bam..." the hammer's a little softer now... I've bled a little onto the page... I've lowered the pressure in my veins... I can half close my eyes now....
"bam..." almost just a heartbeat rather than a hammer blow....
"b..." can't even hear it, practically...
"..."
Ahhh... just call my dog into bed... snuggle him, and scratch his neck... pretend I'm as small as I feel... pretend I'm safe in a warm sunbeam piercing through a leafy canopy in some dreamed fantasy fiddler's green... I'll repaint the ugly highlights tomorrow...
There'll be just four days left.... but there'll be time enough....
"bam..." oh, shoot.... worry about it latter....
...just close my eyes a little more... worry later... stress tomorrow...
This is it... this is the big enchilada... all career choices up to now had been chosen for the sake of failure.... something to do to pass the time until I die...
Now, I feel like there could be meaning to my life... LIke I could actually affect those around me, and share myself, and maybe somehow change something in the world... and if not change something, than inspire somebody else who does have the capacity to change something...
Five days left...
"Bam!" There's the hammer blow... stress creeping up my spine... making my brain pulse and swell... pushing at the back of my eyes...
I spend eight hours painting, and I can't tell what's changed on the canvas...
"Bam!" Another hammer....
I paint highlights on a principal figure on the canvas, and now it looks worse than before....
"Bam" I'm getting weak kneed here, being beaten on all day...
Six billion other people in the world, and yet somehow, I've turned the universe inside out, and I'm pointing all the arrows at myself... at each brushstroke... at each tick of the second-hand on the clock...
Ego-centric.... Or ratther, persona-centric, I suppose...
No eyes are on me, yet, I feel like apologising to everybody I meet on the street...
"Sorry, I'm so creepy... Sorry, I keep pretending I'm an artist..."
"Bam! Bam! BAM!" Hammers, and hammers, and even a few hammered-in nails...
I finish a painting tonight.... or at the very least I've finished it 98%... If I hung it on the wall tonight, nobody would ever think that it's incomplete...
Yet, rather than relief at having come one step closer to my self-imposed quota, instead I feel like crying...
Oohh.... crying.... That sounds good... I haven't had a good cry since my last breeak up.... I haven't had any cry at all since my last break up, now that I think about it...
I hope the cry comes soon, lest it come on the night of my opening....
I could see it... party going on... wine, cheese, cigars, friends, family, art, and I'm hiding in the bathroom, crying my little eyes out...
Just a tiny, wounded child stuck in a very adult moment....
"Bam..." the hammer's a little softer now... I've bled a little onto the page... I've lowered the pressure in my veins... I can half close my eyes now....
"bam..." almost just a heartbeat rather than a hammer blow....
"b..." can't even hear it, practically...
"..."
Ahhh... just call my dog into bed... snuggle him, and scratch his neck... pretend I'm as small as I feel... pretend I'm safe in a warm sunbeam piercing through a leafy canopy in some dreamed fantasy fiddler's green... I'll repaint the ugly highlights tomorrow...
There'll be just four days left.... but there'll be time enough....
"bam..." oh, shoot.... worry about it latter....
...just close my eyes a little more... worry later... stress tomorrow...