At Heart

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At heart I'm an artist. Pure and simple I love elegance, beauty, and trying to simplify something most people perceive as complex, and can't comprehend. Since I was a tot I always excelled in the Fine Arts. The performing arts were never my cup of tea, even though I admire people for their diligence to follow their passion.

However as much as I try I can no longer pick up a brush, pen, or camera. My skills have been subdued by a force I can't even start to negociate with. Somewhere in the back of my mind my creativity switch has been flipped from innovative and spunky, to rational, logical, and emotionless. I just don't have writer block. I have a complete case of Artist's Block. My ability to get my point accross through creative means has been rendered useless.

Everytime I try to create a work of art I get some jobbled mess. A collection of unsorted thoughts thrown onto paper, or canvass that make no sense. There is no meaning behind them. This has been going on since late summer, and it's a major pain in the ass.

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