7/30/02

1:36AM

Mood: Soft, emotional, tears drying in my eyes

 

            so I lay in bed, thinking.. my mind spinning out of control.. a million and one things spin through my head.. I try to grab a hold of just one thought, one emotion, one focal point.. and I pulled the Romance / Creativity thought.. and it saddened me.. sometimes I look around me and I feel like romance has been lost.. it has been let go of.. forgotten.. buried long ago.. that it’s just some thing of the past.. that hurts..

            I’ve always been such a creative person.. my gift is mostly via words.. I can write pieces that take people’s breath away.. I dabbled in the painting and artistic visual world, but I never excelled there.. and as creative and romantic as I always have been, I’ve never met a man who could match me with the creativity and romance.. I’ve been in and out of tons of relationships – I’ve never been one to be alone for long.. kind of ironic considering I love “being alone”.. but anyway.. of all of the men I’ve ever met, not one, not one at all, has ever come close to matching my creativity and romance..

            through out my travels, I would get frustrated trying to show my work to people who would never understand, never comprehend and never appreciate what was in front of them.. I would go out of my mind trying to relate to someone, share myself with someone.. all people who would never really KNOW me.. who would never really SEE me.. I would try and try and try again.. each time failing miserably..

            eventually, I got tired of it.. I got tired of trying to get to know people that would never get to know me.. as I am.. I got tired of blending in with society.. hanging out with people that I really wasn’t interested in.. so I stopped.. my friends, today, are few and far between.. they are people that SEE me.. people that KNOW me.. people that know that my creative side is there.. they know what talents I possess.. but they rarely see them surface.. because I’ve buried it all away.. I chose to put my paint brushes away.. to stop writing poetry so frequently.. I chose to stop expressing myself, because I felt like no one listened.. more importantly, I felt like no one understood..

            people would constantly tell me that my poetry would get me nowhere.. that poets and artists never come alive until well after they’re dead.. that’s depressing to be told over and over and over again.. and it seemed like the creative people I did meet were drugs addicts, alcoholics or derelicts of some kind.. not the kind of people I really wanted to associate with.. and most of them couldn’t attain my artistic / self expressive states without being drug induced.. that’s even more depressing.. I actually gave up my creative side.. I put away all the artsy stuff.. and I all but stopped writing poetry.. occasionally, here and there I would pop out a poem or two when I was battling an emotion I just couldn’t quite express naturally..

            through building my website, I was able to express myself.. to a world that wasn’t forced to see it.. they didn’t have to be there.. they could chose to explore my site or leave it at any given time.. and slowly, but surely, I began to get feedback on the works that are there.. from the poetry to the journals.. and some even on the photography and art work.. that began to give me a little glimmer of hope.. so I continued to maintain my website.. and here it is, 3 years later, with nearly 10,000 visitors.. and growing rapidly..

            so I sat last night.. updating my web page.. creating new ideas for it, new concepts.. creating new art work, and new buttons.. adding on new parts for the web page.. it felt amazing.. I got absorbed in it.. nothing else around me mattered.. I was in my own little world.. no one else was there but me.. I sat in front of my computer and I worked hard, for hours, creating buttons and putting together new pages.. they all came from me, from my mind, my creativity was unleashed.. I sat in front of this screen laughing and smiling.. and being proud of myself once I put it all together and then pulled it up on the big screen.. I was proud of myself.. I was proud of what I had accomplished.. it made me feel really good.. I smiled for my creativity for the first time in I don’t know how long.. and I realized that I got frustrated seeking out people like me, people who would understand me.. people who would look at what I’d created and see it the way I intended others to see it, as a beautiful piece of work.. I got so frustrated that I gave up.. and last night, I put a new links page on my website.. and I realized that I put in a quote about giving up.. is that not what I did?  by retiring my paint brushes and my creative mind.. I was giving up.. I was giving in.. I was losing hope.. that gets me nowhere.. art makes me feel alive.. it makes me happy.. self expression makes me feel complete.. it releases energy captivated by my soul that sometimes needs to be expunged.. and my “art work” – whatever it may be – releases that.. and by God, that feels good..