The Writing on the Wall

I’ve been working at “art” for long enough now, decades, to recognize there is a waxing and waning in the energy and inspiration of the activity. This is separate from daydreaming; my brain seems to always be ready to slip into that comfort zone. But if I want to hold a CD in my hands, or post a blog or write a novel, there comes a moment when it is time to stop thinking and start doing. Perhaps I could be more workmanlike in my approach to art, it would certainly help whittle down the list of projects I’ve dreamed up, but I’ve always felt it was best to just let inspiration push me over the edge into activity instead of taking a figurative lunch pail to work every day.

And so here I am, having successfully written a blog entry every day this week. There are a multitude of topics to explore, yet another list I’ve made, and the time and mental effort must be expended to bring a discussion out of my seething mind and into your eyes and thoughts. I admit I have a goal of publishing all of my recent blogs into a book at year’s end, my first non-poetry book. But more importantly, I feel like a doorway has opened and there are fewer barriers these days to putting pen to paper, if you will. In other words, the words seem to be flowing these days, and I’ve decided to jump into the water and go along for the ride.

One thought that has crossed my mind in recent days is “what is my set of values?” If I am to comment on a topic or event, I need this value set to compare and contrast the topic or event to in my writing. And, at least, outlining such a set of values would be worthy of a journal entry in itself. It would be something I could post on the bulletin board above my computer as I nightly type out these journal entries (I am henceforth refusing to call these writings “blogs” or “blog entries”, I hate these words!). But I also question how necessary this activity would be. I am not living in a value-less state, indeed I feel very strongly in an intuitive sense what wrong and right are in my perception of the world. You see, the thought also crosses my mind of taking the long view; this activity of journaling daily will amount to an exploration of my values over the span of a year. It seems to me this would be a much more organic approach to delineating my value set. And isn’t it more realistic to acknowledge that you live and learn and that you grow and change as a person over your lifetime, as opposed to setting out a concrete value system that you must never deviate from? Of course there are certain lines I, you, and society should never cross. And I will discuss over the future days situations related to this, such as humanity vs. capitalism, for one example. But as always, to me one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves as individuals is the mindful awareness of our unique mechanisms behind our beliefs and actions.

Lately I’ve been feeling like a monk, both in the religious sense as well as a sexual sense. Most people close to me know I’m going through a difficult period in my private life, and surely that’ll all work itself out one day. But also I feel like an observer to life, a solitary soul wandering the fields around his village, exploring and journaling his feelings and observations on all matter of things. Isn’t it a time-honored tradition for such individuals to ponder at length about spirituality, society, and the meaning of it all?

I have had the strangest and strongest sense lately since my sister’s passing, and that is I am fated to outlive all of my remaining family members; a voice tells me inside of my head that it is meant to be that I am to chronicle and report on my feelings and observations to the world. I am fated to be alone and I can only hope that these artistic and journalistic leavings of mine can be of benefit to someone else down the road. I honestly feel a sense of peace and of purpose about it all. No, I don’t plan on shaving my head. But I do plan on feeding my mind with much more than and anything else but this disposable celebrity culture we are surrounded by, this modern bread and circuses farce, these crumbling last days of an empire and a lifestyle gone by.

One of my favorite quotes is from H.G. Wells “The Time Machine”:

“This has ever been the fate of energy in security; it turns to art and to eroticism, and then comes languor and decay.”

If that’s the case, then I prefer to keep the energy that is my love for everyone and everything very insecure; it will keep me motivated to live my story to its fullest.