May 7, 2013

Of Art and Soul

I am a voracious consumer of things and experiences, most of which is Art of some kind. But I see all of my friends creating art and I'm frustrated that I have no art of my own. Bits and pieces here and there...but it's nowhere near the same level. For a long time I thought it was because I was afraid of starting, of having nothing to say. But as I'm getting over that, I'm realizing that the real issue is that I don't like to spend time with myself, by myself. I prioritize going out and hanging out with people, consuming shows, games, and books, and pretty much everything else above setting aside time to be quiet and think and be in order to create. One of the only things that I spend creative time thinking about is the outfits and costumes I put together.

I still have the sense that I'm not being as efficient with my time as I should be. I want to go camping so bad, but I'm anxious that my weekends are filling up and so I want to plan which ones I should go camping on, but I feel like all my efforts at planning things in advance are always rebuffed because no one else plans their time out that far. Maybe the solution is to try camping on my own (which I've never done) or not be so set on having everyone be able to come. I have an additional 5 whole days of vacation time this year that are currently unallocated. Two of those days could go towards Christmas, so that I could have the entire week off, and/or I could start taking three day weekends during the summer months and go camping. Another amazing thing is that I have 4 1/2 days of sick time accrued. This is literally the most sick time I've had at any one point in the last 8 years.

The obvious solution is to start blocking off time to work on a project. And maybe after getting going on something, I can work on it in a group setting. And spend some time coming to terms with my fear of not being able to do the things that I want to and finding ways to do them that aren't dependent on others. Really just trying to be more independent. Because I feel like I'm trying to sustain myself right now and not doing a good job.

His obsession was collecting the last bit of things. Candles that were more horizontal than vertical, boxes and boxes of shampoo with a film of product stuck at the bottom, slivers of soap, the last piece of paper in a ream...his house was full of one-use items. It wasn't even something he thought about anymore, whenever something he was using got down far enough, he would casually put it aside, always knowing when there was just enough left. He lived his life like this, never experiencing the end, but always the beginning. It kept him from becoming disillusioned and he spent hours walking slowly around his almost empty house, picking up items and remembering and imagining the possibilities. No item was tossed aside from being used up. Each lovingly saved from the abyss by a careful owner, its servitude remembered for years to come.