First day of classes! Ahhh, the class moves so fast. Apparently by the end of the week I will have "learned", learned being the operative word there, the entire Arabic alphabet. I'm hella excited. I think I want to write about communication, languages, and the modes of human expression later. I know sounds hefty, it'll come if I don't become lame later on.
What I actually wanted to talk about today was something that I have encountered many times in my life. In all honesty, I'm not trying to be some major philosopher, nor do I believe what I say is something ground shaking, earth explaining, soul revealing. Just some thoughts.
In my experiences I get into these moods when I feel like writing, when I feel like I actually have something interesting to say, something valuable to contribute to this world. But these moments are definitely not the norm in my life. These moments are brought on by strong moments of deep self-perception and a general sadness/hollowness/sadness. There are very few moments in my life when I'm deeply satisfied with the way my life is going, and no, I'm not pandering for pity or even bring attention to that. What I mean to say is that when I am remotely happy, or excited about something, I can't seem to access what I'm thinking. I become focused on what the moments are, in very quantifiable and sequential terms. I don't start to think about what I am doing, what it means, how I feel about it, and where it falls in the spectrum of my life story...
Why is it that I have to be sad/lonely/generally not happy before I can have moments of introspection. I don't want to generalize this feeling to the general populous, however, why does it affect me so? I feel like the greatest artistic works come from deeply troubled individuals, people who have lived pain, who have suffered and found themselves, enough to make magic with thier life. That's not to say that happiness is a burden to creativity, yet the people that I admire the most either ripped of parts of their ears, died lonely old men, or became suicidal in ovens.
Or to bring it to the present. Over-emotive individuals who churn out the masses of music and writing after major breakups.
I don't know. My summer is shaping very oddly right now. Bruhh...
When do you feel the most... honest with yourself?
1 comments:
In my experience, yes, being sad is a huge artistic impetus. But I think just any extreme of emotion has that power. There are plenty of artists who lived happy, love-filled lives and their art reflected that optimism and joyous interaction with the world. (I'm thinking of someone like J.R.R. Tolkien, whose love for his wife and his world were undending, and clearly reflected in his writing, even though he faced many horrors during his lifetime.) Yet, when you're a depressed artist, you tend to make depressing works.
For sad poets, writing poetry only digs you deeper into the hole. There have been studies to prove this. Writing prose is therapeutic, but writing poetry actually exacerbates any existing depressed mental state.
I don't know how it works for other media. I'd like to think it is generally therapeutic to create. But then again, I think why there are SO many tortured artists is simply that they feel alone. And to connect with people, they want to make their art. That's the only way they feel they can reach out and escape the prison of their fractured mind.
You can be a happy artist, but it takes a bit more self-motivation, and more importantly, the ability to find inspiration in every detail of the world. I think the truly great artists can see that happiness and sadness coexist in everything.
It can take a long time to have this awareness, but I think that's how you get to be honest with yourself, and thus, your art.
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