Ive never kept a journal before. I guess I don't have the patience for it. But for some reason I thought I would give this a try.
What do I do with a journal? Spill my feelings out there for the world to see? Share my deepest, darkest? My life seems almost to mundane, to routine for that. That and I've never opened myself up like that to anyone, not in a long time (8 yrs maybe?). And I don't know about doing this in such an open forum. But I think this may be safe to talk about though.
I am now and forever will be, an artist. I have a BA in Fine Arts, with a concentration in Print Making and Painting, with a minor in Art History. And I haven't done anything "artistic" since Jan 2000, the year I graduated from EMU. All I did before that is either in the hands of a friend that wanted one of my pieces, or rotting away in the cabinet of some art class long forgotten, if it hasn't already been thrown out.
The reason for this is that for many years past I have felt dead inside. Like I have a hole in my heart. I don't know when it started, but much like a row of dominoes, it has escalated to where I stand now. It sounds way more dramatic than it actually is, so don't trouble your little head over it. And though I have been able to zero in on some of the reasons why this has happened to me, in the end, it is my fault that it stays that way.
Truth be told, its not the point of why I'm telling you this. I don't want sympathy or "fixing", I simply want to warn you. DON'T let others dictate to you your talent. DON'T let failed artists masked as "teachers" make you feel less than capable of greatness. And DON'T ever stop. Your hands and mind are the tools you use to conduct your art. And if you let them sit and do nothing, they will rot and whither. Never stop, like I did.
Watching: Count of Monte Cristo