Older...Grittier...Dirtier...

It's been awhile since I wrote in this blog. A lot has changed and as for myself, I am not as much of a romantic as I thought I was. Today is a fight for magic and belief in something that is not governed by probability and logic. Those notions though I know them to be true make me sad at times. I would like to believe in fate because that would mean everyone has purpose and no one is completely out there. Unfortunately, logic and it's cold hand has revealed an icy truth to me; there is nothing except the chemical reactions around us and within us. There is no magic except in the inspiration I have in myself to create. It has been touched by the specter of logic and practicality but it hasn't been destroyed. Almost, but almost is better than the alternative. I have asked myself why I create these days. Until recently, I created simply because I needed to. Ultimately, I started creating to pay a bill or two. Once it became a practical act, it stopped being a magical endeavor. Hence, the soul of my work left.

And I think people could feel it.

There is a power in work with part of your soul in it. It's what makes people, even those who are not in the "art circles" stop and experience a moment of awe while looking at it. I think if there is a God, artists are the closest thing to it's image and likeness. To be able to bring something into the world that has its own life is a gift. Women have babies and I think I understand the attachment now. When it comes from you, and is a part of you, you love it. But art isn't a baby in the same way. Once you create something that affects you there is the big chance that it is time to do something that is hard to do.

Sell it.

You put a price on it and you decide that is what a piece of your soul is worth.

It's a hard thing to do, but that is what I gauge my art by. If I feel like I am giving up a part of me, then that piece is ready to go. It's a spiritual masterpiece in my heart. Putting a price on it is a dagger to the chest. And guess what? I have to do it again, and again, and again. It's a process of create, sell, mourn, repeat. Therein lies how the artist is different than most other professions. It requires you to have time to mourn the loss of what you create and give up. It is a selfish life because if done correctly you, will isolate people close to you until you are done with the process. That process could take days or weeks and those who love you are forced to wait on you to return to Earth. Some of them will get tired of your constant existing between being present and being some other place mentally and spiritually. They will feel neglected they will feel insecure because of the lore that surrounds you and they may leave you.

They will become people that don't matter. You will feverishly create because birthing your creation is your life's blood. You will break your lover's heart because they will be the mistress to your soulmate which is your art. And you will lose the ability to see things in the same shades of colors they do. You will disconnect and be driven mad by the need to be prolific in your output. You will be lonely but unable to live with anyone. And you will be remembered....That is, if you are doing it right.

Unsettling Closure

I should be asleep but I am not. This is the first time I have written in sometime and I am sure it is the beginning of a new chapter in my life. Many questions about me were answered tonight and it has affected me deeply. The past year has been a whirlwind and I was blindly engulfed by it. Facades and romanticized images were smashed and only a flawed humanity remains. Those that can love a person without the gloss are the lucky ones. It is when the gloss fades that most people become disappointed or confused. I know people but I am finding that I don't know myself the way I thought I did. I am finding a person can have all of the best intentions and do right as best he or she can and still come out on the short end. I am finding that love is a word that should not be used without the unconditional part. I am also finding that struggle is a part of all relationships even when there should be none. Is it possible that drama rules our very being? I accused a person of being dramatic and angry and troubled, but now I really don't know if I was right. I spent so much time on a soap box proclaiming lofty expectations that I failed to see the real. And now my art isn't saving me. It isn't there to turn to because I have made other things my life's blood without considering the ramifications. Tomorrow, I will see my daughter, and love her. I will also reevaluate what I thought to be true. So many people have come and gone from my life and now I am beginning to wonder if I forced some of those comings to become those that go.

I am also wondering if my rose colored lenses pushed away those that were meant to be in my life.

Daughter is a Drop of Joy

i was doing some facebooking and I took the test on which famous artists am I most like. My result was Picasso. I fit the description and I make similar bad choices on a personal level. The one thing that I do not regret is my daughter. Truth be told, I never wanted children. I never wanted the additional responsibility of another living being depending solely on me. The idea of it frightened me. Olivia meant the end of any pockets of irresponsibility I harbored. She ushered in the death of the old me and the birth of a new person. I thought about all of the people I loved unconditionally and the list is sadly short. Olivia is someone I will love through the good and bad times. She is also someone whose well being I will not compromise.Because of this little girl, I have found out what kind of man I can be even in the face of those who don't recognize the changes I have made. She is also changing my definition of me as an artist. We live in a world where behind just about everything beautiful is an ugly opposite. People hurt one another for little reason, people manipulate others, and people use up other people because they can. It is so sad that most of these people aren't bad, they do these things because they have been conditioned to do so. It is not a world for the kind anymore. But sometimes things happen to remind you there are still people who are human in the world. Livy reminds of that. I used to think being a father was a thankless job. While relationships grow thankless and loveless, and friendships lose their meaning, the smile of my daughter is the biggest indication of appreciation I could ever receive.

She gives me strength that I alone don't have

Art vs Life or is Art Life?

I haven't had much time to check in and write much of anything. I haven't written since my daughter was born. I hadn't written since we finally finished Transcend. I hadn't written since my life changed from what it once was. There is a saying that change is good and makes you a better person.

I don't really know about that.

I think the experience gained from change is good but the actual act of change can leave you reeling. My daughter Olivia came about quite unexpectedly. I was going through a change prior to her that left me reeling and actually resulted in her. There has been little time to examine how I feel about the changes in my life and the changes resulting from those who have left my life. The person that I am now is the most resilient human being I have ever known. A child can give you an emotional fortitude you didn't have before.

You eat shit that you wouldn't have.

You listen to shit that you wouldn't have.

You deal with people that you wouldn't have.

You do it for her. You do it because she is worth it.

She connects two people whether or not they stay together. But despite the chivalry and duty, there is the realization that who I am as a visual artist has changed. Achieving my goals has now become paramount. I am not a college graduate, I have health issues, and I am not primed for any other occupation except that of an artist. Yet, I find there is little time to finish what I started. There is a level of selfishness of being an artist that is prerequisite. I realize that I have two jobs; one that pays and one that doesn't. I also realize that I must still be a human being and check in with her. The expenditure of energy to stay afloat for her is taxing. Those left have become emotional casualties. Deep down inside I know that if I fail with my artistic endeavors, there is little left for me to give a partner as art completes me. I cannot let go of what I am trying to do. Those people I lose along the way were meant to be.

Olivia, however will always be my daughter. My success will be her success and I am close.

Fatherhood on the Horizon

At this point I am not proud to say it but I never really wanted to be a dad. I never liked the idea of someone being totally dependent on me to live. I loved my solitary life before and I am somewhat selfish as far as my personal space goes. My artwork has shifted (what little I am able to do) and my brain is swimming. I prepared for all instances in my life except this. This whole process is teaching me a lesson: You will never be ready for everything.

You can be ready to go on the journey.

My daughter will be named Olivia. She will need to be loved by both parents even if the parents part company and disolve their union. I owe my daughter the opportunity to experience both parents under the same roof as a cohesive loving unit. Is it in my personality type to open my life to this kind of committment? The answer to that is no. I have to be honest, I have had enormous difficulty accepting a life without privacy or a quiet space to contemplate art. I have had difficulty leaving the life I built for a new life that until now, would have made me cringe. In eight to 10 weeks I will be a father and to a certain extent my life will not be my own anymore.

It no longer matters if I am ready for it, I have to be.

TRANSCEND the film

Had a very small screening in Tulsa for the film. Got great feedback from most. We need to do sound mixing, but all things considered, it looks very good. I am having a hard time raising funds to finish the film. I've asked friends to contribute for this final stretch. The economy is making sure that those contributions are slight to say the least. I have never been in a situation were my living quarters were in jeopardy but here we are. If help arrives by July 16th, I will be able to possibly keep my place. I can't down size anymore than I have. And at this moment I should be asking myself if it was all worth it. Money has come and gone to pay expenses and now my account nears zero. Usually in these situations, I find a way to win but right now I don't know. It has taken a serious amount off resiliency, hope and determination. All of that is dissipating. I don't have anything to fall back on and things are in danger of coming undone. Do I panic? No. Do I choke up and freeze? No. All I can do is continue to fight and hope to be delivered. If we can get over this part we will have accomplished something that never has been realized in a short period of time. The question is whether or not money will trump the creativity that Inclusion in Art has leaned on all this time.

The Journey and Path of an Artist

The Journey and Path of an Artist