Perks of a Starving Artist

I had dinner with a nascent painter the other day.  We swapped creative juices and lightly pondered the implication of uncertainties.  I envy her bold strokes against the canvas, the omnipresent paradox and struggle of light and dark against everyday life.  She’s embraced the life I admire so.  The passion that comes from huddling your pennies together to tango your favorite ramen flavor for dinner.  The desperation and paralyzing fear combined with the certainty of prescience and inspiration.  The need to share something wonderful, something personal with the world– and the willingness to risk everything for nothing but a blank sheet for interpretation by impersonal souls.

I feel like I’ve left the searching stage of life, or at least lost the uncertainty of a next meal, a next toy, a friendly smile.  That’s when things get dangerous for me, the banality of everyday life threatens to topple and wear me away.  I’m a stoic lighthouse– brilliant in the turgid night in a torrential storm, a beacon of guidance and a funnel for adventurous tales worn away only by time and monotony, and eventually forgotten until the next monsoon.

I’m constantly searching the horizon for signs of change.

~ by completelyunexpected on April 10, 2008.