The Frustration And Madness That Is The Creative Process

Love
Several very frustrating hours spent behind a dozen cans of spray paint.

So much of art is people wandering across something that you have created and saying to themselves or out loud if they are bold

“Wow that is pretty cool”

When they see something that is generated they don’t often even think about the work that went into creating it. There are those that call the state of creation the ‘flow’ state. So often when I move into that space-time seems to fly by and the outside world often shrinks away. Most of the time when I try to create something I start without much of a notion of where I will end up. Every time I take a step back and look at when I’ve painted or written I end up thinking to myself.

“Oh my god, this sucks so bad”

Almost all the art I created in the first 30 years of life I have destroyed because I honestly can’t stand to look at it. I keep throwing my heart at whatever I am doing again and again until I can start to tolerate my own creation.

But I never feel love. I never look at something I’ve created and say to myself

“Wow, that is pretty cool, I am so talented”

Even when complete strangers come out of nowhere and tell me that whatever I have made is the coolest thing they have ever seen I still only look at my creations and think…

‘It could be so much better’

Continue reading “The Frustration And Madness That Is The Creative Process”

Dumpster Diving and Bumper Tag – The Tale of a Disillusioned Youth

volvo

19 years old
the story be told
All I can recall
was the insanity of it all

I drove in a Volvo without any doors
with the Police Dept I was constantly at wars
We played this game called bumper tag
we’d hit our friend’s cars, they had no airbag

Then we’d drive out with a frenzied haste
and ignore all the rules of the road as we’re chased
We’d run red lights and stop signs all over town
until the other car would run us down

Then we’d get hit and have to sit still
to anyone watching we’d look mentally ill
then the chase would begin anew
I really don’t know how I ever got though

Living in abandon buildings was just a haze
Dumpster food and coffee, life felt like a maze
Everything hurt, pain was the norm
Dancing in moshpits became an art form

Continue reading “Dumpster Diving and Bumper Tag – The Tale of a Disillusioned Youth”