Something in history has made the artist feel as if they were alone.
Alone in their thoughts, their feelings, in their 'aloneness'.
Alone in their perception of the world and the many, many days that pass by without a common thread amongst the world. Or so they think.
I think this is the greatest peril to the artist, (perhaps the biggest motivator), and also the saddest. How many have departed feeling that they had no one to turn to? Turning instead to those destructive forces that make us feel less lost, less forsaken and disparagingly comforted…
We, as artists, have the most powerful minds and hearts. Ours are the ones that break barriers, the ones that create bridges between human kind; We make the music that we all sing together, the brush strokes that bring tears, the words that curl around our hearts and remind us that we are so far from being alone. It’s such a tragic irony that it is then us that are left in the sandbox doodling in the grains.
Imagine a world where the artist felt the athletic’s pride for what we did. Where we realized that we are surrounded on all sides by our counterparts. Where we didn’t singularly and in unison hold our knees to our chests in our dens. Rather, we could come together and hold each other and realize that our uniqueness makes us part of our own special tapestry.
It will always beg the question of productivity. If we were comforted in our uniqueness, would we then feel the need to create? Would our motivation then dissipate? I think not. I think our minds go so far beyond the basics that we expect to be our sources of motivation that we don’t realize how deep our creativity goes. Some rely on happiness to create, others the deep pit of despair. Some rely on the constant aggravation of other humans, or of the state of the world, or anything that makes our heart wrench upwards or downwards.
We will always have the source to create. I believe if we were comforted by our fellow humans, we would gain the ability to go even deeper, and break more barriers, and get even further into our crazy amazing minds.
If there was no penance for thinking freely, no shrugs or wincing for a misunderstood statement, no reprimanding from the critics as to what makes us tick – imagine where we could naturally go without fear.
We are special. We are unique. We are amazing. Why don’t we get together and kick some ass.
For Elvis: "Galleon" Once again left lost and lonely
Sails torn from the same storm
You left the fleet behind
To fight this night alone
And you felt as if in desert
Your asylum obscured from view
We were all just over the hill
Waiting for you
The roads were gone
The heat so strong
It all weighed down on you
But we all walk that way
We all walk that way
We felt the same heat too
Close your eyes sweet friend
Rest for us tonight
The thought that you could not win
Will make us stronger in the fight
Close your eyes against the light
The dark is cool and fair
We’ll see you in the dungeons
And sip in our rocking chairs