i've been doin a LOT of art lately. this can mean only one thing... art keeps my worried mind quiet. my art is the product of a frustrated heart. my art keeps me a busy bee, too busy to see whats underneath. the work keeps me blind to the hurt my heart is trying to get to me... work keeps me safe from the truth...being focused on projects chokes the truth raw. the floodgates of secret pangs gush out any form of progress. the stars and headlights of cars. the diagram of my hearts constellations... my wall's running out of room and i'm running out of excuses. it comes soon, i'm used to being one with affliction but that doesn't mean i welcome the pain. i'm abstaining from inner shades of blue. my heavy heart takes refuge in the layers of my creativity.i plunge deeper into the work. filling my time with diversion. the more i create the more i shut away. constant investment in self preservation. art is an excuse to keep whats bubbling underneath oh so still on the surface. it keeps me sane, it keeps me strong. it sustains me. the infamous outpouring of emotion. my curse and my salvation. the louder the colors, the more elaborately my mind is bent.....the more i'm holding in, the more i should be confronting the subcutaneous storms of my heart's horizon. the more i throw out at the world- the more i resist the travailing downpour that breeds within. my true passion takes any form of artistic freedom. my creative motor hums hardest during my desperate stand offs with reality. if there's something welling up under my surface..you'll know it. thats when i strangle myself with a need to be busy with projects. the artistic process my savior..but also, my barometer for the intensity of pain to come.
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