Walking towards insanity

I think artists are insane. That’s why I don’t call myself an artist everyday. Because on most days, I am sane, following the framework of the societal rules laid by the people around me.

Following a 9–5, I do my job, I work, I love, I breathe and sleep.

Art stays in my mind all day, just like a clingy girlfriend who needs attention. However, if I will give it the attention it asks for, I know for sure that I will spend the whole day there, wandering in the curves of the words and emotions which are explored by many but explained by none.

I encounter art on every nook and corner of my room and your room and every room ever possible. This makes me think that maybe art is inside me and not in the outside world. Only if I could convince myself that if I do nothing but art 24*7, I will be glorified as much as I am glorified over a simple job which gives me a considerable amount of money.

I also wonder, is the feeling of being an artist same in people whose art is less appreciated and understood in comparison to whose art is termed as masterpieces.

I wonder how people create. Am I creating or just recreating? Am I an artist or just insane? There is one problem with me, I wonder a lot. And I ask a lot of questions because I guess my questions were never answered as a kid.

I think, I think a lot and write a lot which is less I guess. What happens when we write our thoughts? A part of them comes in front of us and teases us to get the rest of the thought out of our brain.

We humans beings are miserable at art. Take god, for reference. God created us and we create out of the feelings that are generated in us by one of us. So technically we are recreating!

Art has opened many doors for me, but has closed some doors, like sanity, control, protection and cunningness.

I think ending this article will take me forever because I can talk about art forever and while I talk about it, I think I will be walking towards insanity because that’s where the true art is!