Sketchpad Studios

It seems that once a year, maybe twice, I will get an insatiable urge to put pen to paper, (or in this case, fingers to keyboard), and let my thoughts flow from my brain down through my fingertips and create a new blog post. This is one of those times.

I have been in a creative stupor for some time now but recently there seems to be something brewing deep within begging to be released. Let me give you an example of what I mean:

late last week I was driving home from work the other day and I noticed the colours. I don’t mean, oh look, there’s a green tree, or a blue sky, or a white pile of dirty snow. I mean hues of all sorts. The different tones. The contrast between dark and light. It was a very strange awakening that was not encouraged by any sort of drug usage either. I don’t get down like that. Now I can’t stop noticing these colours and all of a sudden, everything has become extremely overwhelming. I can’t help but wonder if this is what children who have Autism experience?

Then, as I lay awake searching for the moment I could drift away into unconsciousness, I couldn’t help but to go deeper into my thoughts and I began to hear all sorts of things that go bump in the night. From the furnace rumbling, the wind gently finding its way through the trees, to the flags in front of the lending office flapping hurriedly along. I lay there attentively listening and suddenly began to speculate as to why I can’t do the same thing when I’m trying to meditate?

Now, the downside to all of this is I seem to be craving the toxicity of shitty relationships. I was thinking back on all of the associations I’ve had with various men and women alike, sharing my deepest most most intimate parts of not only my body but my psyche as well, and began to postulate about the connection between my creativity and my need to be in a virulent relationship. I always found that those relationships were full of fire and passion, was rarely dull, but created a lot of PTSD moments as well as quite a bit of distrust when it came to any future involvement, no matter how positive I thought it may have been. The closest I’ve gotten to this in the last three years is a fascination with villainous characters; think Joachim Phoenix’s or Jared Leto’s the Joker, Penn Bagley’s character in Netflix’s You, even Denzel Washington, Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Idris Elba, Gary Oldman, and Christopher Walken just to name a few, in all their criminal roles. These men ooze with a sensuality that reminds me (sadly), of the criminals I spent various bits of my life with. Who doesn’t love a good bad boy?

I do also recognize that when I am in a state of severe depression and/or chaos, my creativity flows forth with great abundance, like the wine Jesus made during the wedding at Cana. I put out some of the most beautiful pieces I could ever compose during those times.

For whatever reason, my senses are heightened and the artistic cravings are growing, but I have no desire to pick up a brush or camera. The closest I’ve been getting to a creative outlet is with food and my hips are none too happy about this.

So…what’s a girl to do?

I feel as if I am in a horrible catch-22. Give up what’s left of my sanity and just create like never before which would mean I stay in a dark place OR, I stay in the light and quell every creative thought that attempts to come bubbling up through any cracks it can find because my art is never as good as if I’m in the dark. It’s challenging to find a happy medium, it’s not a black or white thing (no pun intended). I wish it was as simple as that. It would make the creative process a whole lot easier, but I doubt I could produce something that wasn’t dull. I don’t know, maybe I need to get laid. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt lustful touch of another person. Maybe I need to delve head first into my art and never look back, the consequences be damned. Maybe, just maybe, I’m dealing with yet another mid-life crisis. My birthday is fast approaching and I will be remembering my 46th trip around the great yellow orb in the sky.

Any other creative types that deal with this kind of thing? How do you deal with it?

As an American, I have never been both ashamed and proud.

I’m proud of the people who work hard, and stand up for those who have been wronged. I’m saddened by the bullshit that keeps happening; shootings, prejudices, hate.

I’m proud of those who, despite all evils, still manage to stand up and do what’s right, regardless of that first gut instinct to run from danger but instead run towards it to protect the innocent.

I’m saddened by the leaders who can’t seem to get their heads out of their asses to do what’s best for us all, and not just for those with deep pockets.

I’m proud that I am from a military family, and that the tradition continues with my own children, but scared for their safety and the safety of all military & law enforcement personnel.

I wish we could remember the basics of what it means to be not just an American, but a good, decent, helpful, person and to do what’s right, despite the consequences.