Artless
I am sitting on the floor of the living room, looking at my accusatory pile of magazines, watching last night’s The Daily Show and… well, blogging. I am trying finish some of these long-pending tasks, because I think it might make me feel better to not have so many piles of undone things staring me in the face.
I’ve had an accusatory pile of magazines following me around for a few years now, because I remember blogging about them back when I was in my apartment. The current pile is about 18 inches high, and is comprised of: home and garden magazines, political magazines, eco magazines and art magazines. It used to have a contingent of fashion and shopping magazines, but I had another fit of “Fashion magazines! They are trying to destroy my self-worth! They are making me even more dissatisfied with my looks! Shopping magazines! They encourage wanton consumerism and make me unsatisfied with my amount of goods! I throw you all away!” Even though I didn’t have to pay for those magazines, they were costing me too much.
Now I have less to read. I am still making very little headway though.
My art magazines particularly are hard to get through. And that’s because I am not making any art, and haven’t been for months. I haven’t made anything, I haven’t learned anything, I haven’t tried anything new. Sometimes I try to do something, but then I just stare at my screen blankly, and then go away from the computer. It makes me sad, not being creative. I feel like I am missing part of myself. And yet when I try to think about creating anything, it just won’t work. Everything that I have to say right now is so dark and twisted. Making anything pretty would feel like a lie. My creative side is so depressed and pessimistic and sad. And my art isn’t about that. It’s dark, but it’s not ugly. It’s sassy sometimes, but it’s not sadistic. And I feel too angry and betrayed and abused to say anything other than that. And I can’t bring myself to say that with my art.
So until I can find a way to say it in some other fashion and clear it from my system, until things get, or at least seem, better I think I may stay artless.
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