i endure in order to equalize..
sealing the store on the fate of death.
and like the phoenix
|on my way to city again to see someone else play this time... one of my favorite bands|
|she is so regal that empire state...|
|almost to radio city...|
|crimson, white and indigo|
|as good as the camera phone gets with such bright stage lights, but that's elvis costello, larry cambell, diana krall, and theresa williams on stage with Furthur putting on the most amazing show i've seen in a while|
I have lost some good friends this year, even though they are all still "alive".
The hardest lesson for me to learn in this lifetime, is that sometimes good people
make bad decisions.
It's hard to know who the villains are
when everyone's so pretty.
But I did have a great homemade dinner with some old friends recently
and it reminded me that sometimes people fall away,
but it doesn't mean they're lost.
We all get caught up in the chaos of life but it's up to each of us to slow it down,
and reach out a hand,
and say hello again.
I find that the artists mind works in very methodical ways.
Not truly calculated or even sensical,
but habitual and yet intuitive.
It relies on pushing forward and finding new ways to look at old things.
And I really believe that as long as we don't force it to stay with what we know,
what we hold on to as comfortable,
that the newness is the healthiest way to continue to create.
I have always been a one of a kind artist.
I find it boring and mundane to make the same thing that I just created
in the exact same way, with just a color change or something else so trivial.
It's like going backwards,
instead of moving forwards.
I know there are many out there who like to take something they love
and recreate it over and over, trying to perfect it each time
so that it can be shared over and over again by
so many people.
I just don't view that same feeling of creation.
I know when something is enough.
I know when I've done all I can do for a piece
and it is time to let it go.
I don't need to do it again.
I have tried and it's never as satisfying as the first time.
I start to see flaws, and imperfections
in the second try.
I start to view it as work and not love.
I start to resent the way the materials might want to move in a different direction
with no rhyme or reason as to why they would stray from the design.
I start to question the original intention.
And to me,
that is not art.
That is not freedom.
That is surely not love.
And it's just not me.
Here's to being me...
and loving every minute of it.
I hope you find the time to do the same....
love. love. love.