I feel so crippled at times, with language. There is so much that language can not express. Like that moment under water, when a beam of sunlight fell on us and the marine life, when I had held the stranger trainer's hand, and rested my life on him; it was a dive of faith, a dip of calm and beauty that cleansed me of something, and I do not know what. I was aware of my existence, and of all that I do not know, all that I haven't seen and will never see. And now, when I think of that moment and try to capture it in words, I realize my inefficiency again, as a human being, as part of an inaccurate, subjective civilization which can not express even a minute fraction of all that it experiences. How vain of us to forget this truth and go on living like the center of the universe. How inadequate of us to even classify and generalize every unique tangible and intangible experience. I like the feeling of smallness, of being a tiny insignificant speck in the thread of the universe, as small or as big as the golden striped fish that slid through my toes and altered something inside me forever.
Indulgence is just a personal expression, a search inside the soul, an attempt to tiptoe silently in the inner world of turbid emotions, to embrace oneself for one's imperfections, to allow oneself the liberty of gloom and the madness of joy, and the candidness to mould them into words...
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Thursday, February 02, 2012
The Artist's Burden
When is it that we really start to mess up? There is this thing with creative people. They have this very high taste for beauty, and that ends up ruining them sometimes. If you're creative, you got to have courage. You got to go out and explore. You got to search for that experience of beauty that you aspire for in your life. And you need to be practical. You can not expect the people around you to give you that experience. You got to find that on your own - by stepping out, by keeping awake, by obliterating your soul of all the inertia that holds you back. We are born with this itch in our heels. We got to live this way. Because there is no other way.
When you feel dissatisfied, lonely, lost, confused, it is this itch, waiting to be satisfied. The process of growing up seasons all that is ordinary in us and blinds our senses to our own needs. Do not let this happen to you. Do not forget to express your needs to yourself. Do not chain your soul. You're born with the burden of a thousand worlds waiting to be explored.
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