Another process of thoughts, animated. Or is it processing? It’s hard to say, tenses and being tense are hard to figure out when combined. Am I a artist, was I an artist, will I ever be an artists?… What started as an outline and an idea morphed, evolved, became something. Seven days, but without any rest, lol. Originally designed to be a submission for another of the endless, submit to be flashed on a screen somewhere with a bunch of other artists sponsored by some internet famous person…or was it hosted, who knows anymore, they all sort of blur together into one tasteless mash of taking advantage of desperation under the guise of providing opportunity…but, I digress, this is supposed to be about my new piece…but in a way all this is…
The outline…I’d say this is probably the hardest part as though the seed of an idea may have been planted, the whole moment has yet to be formed so every action is filled with great doubt and each line is painful af. I have to trust that everything will come out as my subconscious sees but my waking eyes cannot. The desire to create, luckily strong enough to overcome this time, and, when I started this one… the desire to be shown, seen, acknowledged, recognized… This piece, meant to be a summary of all of those that were before it, all the little pieces drawn together in one neat little knot.
What was the point of these Fidgets, is the point, will be the point? There’s me getting lost in tenses again, must be the tension… Just trying to organize, feel, doodle out some of the energies that I can’t seem to get any sort of grip on, so out of focus for reasons unknown that this was the only way for me to turn the knob and release the pressure on my psyche. Stick figures walking, riding rockets, sitting in fields under cloud, sun and storm… eyes, fish, skulls, flowers? So basic, simple, so much as to be overlooked for their much deeper meanings within context and connotation sitting side by side with so much else.
Should I interpret? Should I give away the plot line, story, climax? I find the more I explain the more people get it but…in the words the abstract creative within cringes a bit…where the fun of knowing when you should try and see what’s inside your own head…but, that doesn’t seem to be the world we live in, one that is able to see the simple and draw out the complex…everything must seem complex so that we endeavor to figure out the simple…backwards to me but something I must internalize if I wish to continue being who I am instead of succumbing the the flow of the world and drowning in its…I digress again.
Energies, endless cycles, flow and furor as I try to understand, succeed, just move forward. Loops, endless loops, gifted ability by gifs, the picture of what is never stops, a cycle in eternity, human life while it lasts. Where are we going? Where do we come from? Does it matter or is it the process of always being between two points, never knowing where the one behind or one in front is? A blind scramble pretending that, in-fact, we do know, in spite of our deep well of ignorance, self imposed or externally imposed…
Three colors, basic, not including black or white as they just, are…immutable and ever-present. Green, red, purple. Mixed, dashed, exploded, combined, separated, braced against, push around, always a part. Energy…all about energy…what pushes this eternal machine forward? The conversion of one form to another into another, transitions into desires back into cold hard reality. Flux flow and levels… What means what to you? Does it matter what I say the three mean when you can assign them yourself knowing what the results are to be? The connection between them all, and, they are all connected in one way or another…rotations, transitions, transformations, left to right, right to left, up and down, somehow my brain snaps the pieces into place without ever seeing the puzzles box.
Seven days, from start to finish. Let there be light to…well…instead of rest, satisfaction…for I’m far from being able to rest…my endless machine already moving to the next point from this completed one in a direction, well, I don’t know. The forces around me press and push to a point where the only thing I desire to emit is a scream. That, itself, is not a good point to try and create…as almost 3 years of trying to express has met with little to no interest and no life-lines from which to pull myself out.
But what do the little bits and bobs mean? Are skulls supposed to be scary, or fun? Insightful or over-used? A daily confrontation with mortality, of self and of my family around, a self-definition with no definition that applies to us all? Fish? What do they mean to you? To others? What does their presence do for your mood? Your life? Your fortune? What are your dreams? How do you get there? What is the vehicle upon which your hopes? What flowers along the way do you water, tend to, hope to cut and enjoy upon your table with satisfaction? What daily energies combine, form, explode, confront, inside and around you? So much, so many, the forms are easy to find but the definitions, always changing.
Maybe it’s enough to just sit and enjoy, let one’s eye wander, one’s mind play, to just be with it. Stories abound for those who are open to it. Lost in definition we give our will to others instead of taking control. Some things are meant to be understood, others…not so much, for it is in the space between all these words where pleasure should lie, in the work not in the workings of. Context is important, but in the end, you all are the key, not me.
