My life has taken direction where art has little space, which hurts. Time to time I try to restart things (like now, with daily sketching), yet soon it all gets buried under - studies (starting phD in chemistry FTW!), love, language courses.
And well, inspiration is a guest that does not willingly visit the lazy
(Tchaikovsky), saying I find true more often than not.
And ask myself - is it truly worth trying? I don't draw for months, the maybe something. I'm in no way not moving forward. Should I just abandon my will like dead limb to be amputated? And yet I find I cannot part with it, as it has been with me all my life. So I shall struggle on, limping and maybe half dying inside, poisoned by the feeling of not doing enough.
Who knows, maybe I will brave the disease... Maybe not. While my
page gets visited, I get little to no
or watches. Have never gotten then, even when I was active. Maybe this unfairness
, seeing other art so below my level gaining more acclaim than mine makes me reluctant to do more in this site in particular.
Maybe I'm just searching where to put blame, maybe my musings have grain of truth in them. All in all, writing always have had cleansing effect on me and I feel better now.
Maybe even good enough to try and restart my creative journey.
To get out the desert.