Start today our with some cheese ball with extra wiz. What the ef hole am I doing. Got no plans, got no future. None that I can foresee at least. My cash is dwindling and i still have not figured out any avenue of sales. I was walking earlier wondering what I was still doing here, I should just pull up and go back to Eugene. My mind is divided. It is a thought path I don't even want to go down, cause it keeps going in circles. And I am left feeling isolated and concerned. I wish I had the gas money to hit the road. Eastern oregon, Vancouver Canada, California. But that is just it. I made my move. I came to Portland and now my moves have to be defensive, retreat. Idon'twannoow. I know that there is some way to make this work. I know that I need to hook up with other artists. I know I will eventually survive. Like a young gay man coming out, I know this won't kill me. I know it will slowly get easier. Just got to take it day by day. It is my own advice to fire fighters on a long hike. Never think about the destination, just focus on taking another step. I am good at that, treading water. Developed a chip on my shoulder over the years. Realized I don't actually open up to people that often. When you are willing to sink below the normal standards, to be broke and live in a vehicle, sometimes I have to pretend. Who am I kidding I always have to pretend. It is not that my life is hard or bad. It is fine and that is one reason to put a happy face out on the surface. But we can get in the habit of pretending everything is fine when turmoil is boiling inside. And then we can find ourselves without the worlds or an air of comfort that we need to say "I'm worried" or "This is stressing me out." It is sad really. There are so many people on the planet, and our own habits can make us feel like strangers among our own friends.
I have been thinking about our fickle minds, how I wish I had just done that one thing, but I couldn't do it until I had done that other thing, to gain the perspective. I peruse artists residencies. And I wonder how anyone has the money to do this. It is either a little free time or a little free money. I never have both, not in the first thirty six years at least. I should call about working, but I don't want to give up my life, my painting whenever I want to. Actually I want to be painting whenever I don't want to as well. I keep on thinking, just bring the paint into your heart. Just live for it. It is that easy. But each day i spend more money on food, on this cup of tea sitting next to me, on life. and the more I tell myself I should refrain the more I feel I deserve it. A respite from my own drill Sargent, John Singer it would be. Of course all these ideals do not add up to human survival, and the cycle of self stress and a dash of me against the world self pity slips in, useless. Attitudes will give you wings or bury you in a hole. And that is the concern right. That I screwed up 'cause i came at it with the wrong attitude.
At least now I am trying. I rejected the art world in my twenties. I was way too cynical for my own good. I was a hater. The whole thing seemed like a rigged popularity contest. which sounded just like something else I had hated, high school. Now I don't care. When you know what you want, really know, you can just look past things. There are a great deal of major problems in the world, on all levels and in all things. But how could I let my feelings about it stop me from doing what I love. I am selling my artwork for a hundred to a hundred and fifty a painting. Way below what it is worth. But should I get all butt hurt and bent out of shape. Bottom line, I made something and I enjoyed making it. So I don't have the money to go to a bar and get a drink. Is that really a problem, or am I just jealous because I feel like every one else can, 'cause when your out and about everyone else seems to be well off. It is just some silly competitive attitude that is holding us back in the first place. Was I a hater, or a lazy dreamer, too afraid to get burned to take the risks, or just a kid, needing to do it his own way, to make his own mark. Thinking I didn't get a leg up, just 'cause I didn't have anyone to talk to. 'Cause there was too much to say.
Foolish. That fickle mind again. A child then and a child now, still afraid to get hurt. Wish I wasn't. What would I do if I was fearless. Embrace homelessness and become a sidewalk painter. No money, no ego, just creation, art under the feet of people. The real message in every piece. Stop, collaborate and listen. Art folks. art will save the world. not me, not the artist. am only an avatar, pausing in this human form to allow the energy of creation to surge through me. And I will be gone and forgotten.
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