creative-life

People wonder when you're allowed to call yourself a writer. I think maybe the answer is when you recognize that is work." - Nina MacLaughlin, 'With Compliments

I can__ overstate how little I knew about myself at 22, or how little I__ thought about what I was doing. When I graduated from college I genuinely believed that the creative life was the apex of human existence, and that to work at an ordinary office job was a betrayal of that life, and I had to pursue that life at all costs. Management consulting, law school, med school, those were fine for other people _ I didn__ judge! _ but I was an artist. I was super special. I was sparkly. I would walk another path.And I would walk it alone. That was another thing I knew about being an artist: You didn__ need other people. Other people were a distraction. My little chrysalis of genius was going to seat one and one only.

Your current situation = the life expectations you have accepted as completed, unless you change your comfort zone to create a better life.

Bird of the skystill bound to the earth,soaring to unimaginable heightsyet returning to perch in the willow.Death is near, always nearand so...is lifeeven in the ashes.Rise Up Phoenix.Live. Fly. Create!

There has to be something other than keeping busy that gives human life value, because our society so often functions as if __roductivity_ and/or __sefulness_ are the measures of human value, and _ particularly for artists _ this is deeply problematic. We shouldn__ given in.

In the vast spectrum of space-time__ coeternal continuum, I am but a glint of bundled energy held together by the translucent fiber of creative consciousness. The misty dew of private thoughts that inhabit my streaky underworld briefly forms a splintery part of the glittering arena of the cosmos. In the ether-like dawn of my awakening, my minuscule arch appears intravenously injected amid the dark matter of the nightscape. Reminiscent of the morning__ dew, my comet__ tailed reflection disintegrates and dissipates without a lasting trace in the dawn of a new age. I shall never wholly cease to exist, since my filtrate potentiality _ a trace of my essence _ remains suspended forevermore in celestial wonderment.