Procrastination.

In my lifetime, I thought I learned a few things. Maybe this is not a proper art blog, but nevertheless, it is something that has to be established and engrained into an artist's mind. An artist's mind is a crazy thing. I'm uncertain whether or not this blog will even have pictures. Perhaps at the end? It doesn't matter.

This is about me. About an artist who is trying to figure out how not to die trying to create something impossible.

I read an interesting story just yesterday. A short story about how an artist wished to sell her soul for insanity, to truly become a great artist. To become a genius, you must be crazy or unhappy. Is this true? Is this the stereotype we have all fallen under when you call yourself an artist? Artists. We're different. And we're certainly crazy. But perhaps "we're all mad here". I think this can be true to anyone. But even more so for an artist. To create the things an artist sees inside their head, that requires talent. To see those things inside your head, that requires insanity. To create these things in your head in the first place - that requires genius.

No one will really understand us. We are different from any normal person that walks these streets, that strolls across the city sidewalk looking through the windows of passing stores and shops. We look in those windows, and are inspired by the little sequins on those dresses, or the bright dashing colors on the mannequin's face.

An artist can think of these great things, but an artist must have the patience to execute it. They must plan it, they must think of the perfect way to construct it. It is not just putting a painting onto paper. You must push yourself to create it. No longer can you stand around and just think of how great it will be. You have to do this.

I have forgotten this rule.
Time and time again.

I need to stop, I need to reconsider what I am doing. I have fallen victim to this disease called "Procrastination". It plagues my head like a cancer - it's a massive benign tumor clenching onto the base of brain stem. It is not contagious, but a little bit of the tumor clings to everyone, tempting you with little words, like

"Mmm...let's watch this video, that will be fun won't it?"
"Let's enjoy ourselves today! Would you enjoy a nice coffee?"
"You'll have time. Next time, next time, we'll do it for sure!"
"Relax, you deserve it. Just relax."

Again, and again, and again, knocking at your head. It's always there inside mine. Is it inside yours? I believe it is, whether or not your acknowledge it or not. It's there. I'm not trying to be a Philosopher. I'm only sharing my thoughts, my opinion on the matter. I'm falling victim to this cancer again, even now, when I write this. I should be thinking of next assignment. I should be considering my time and my work, and just how much time it would take to make this work.

I am an artist, but I am not.
I have the mind of an artist, but how can I be one when I do not take the time to really revel in my work. Why am I here, if I don't put forth the effort? I can't say. I need to change things now, for my future, for my career, for my life.


I'm not a philosopher.
Just an artist.
Trying to help another artist.