Sobering Up

It's been a pretty good weekend. A lot of relaxing, doing art and visiting friends. Last night we met up with our friend Michelle and saw Capote (our second time), which was almost even better the second time around. Afterwards I felt buzzed and high with inspiration. I wanted to live in the world depicted in the movie--fantastic clothes, heaps of notebooks with perfect prose surrounding me, as I feverishly write in bed. This is not an unfamiliar buzz I get. I read about or see a movie based on someone's artistic life and my mind goes off on a tantalitic journey of fancying the same sort of reality for myself. It's such a great feeling, but it occured to me last night that it may not do me any better than getting stoned or drunk. Physically, it's probably a healthier high than doing drugs or drinking, but beyond the buzz, I rarely do much with it. In fact, I realized that it may be a way to stop me from actually DOING anything.

I've been an artist my whole life and have gone through many different phases, both in mediums and attitude. The last few years have felt very very hard and dry. I've had a few breakthroughs, but the over all feeling has been this sense of doom that I may never FIGURE IT OUT, meaning I may never GET BACK that sense of flow and fluidity that I took for granted for years. Then, suddenly, something happened: I've been on an artistic roll lately. The collaging I've been doing has spiked an artistic well in me I didn't know existed anymore. I can't wait to create from it and I literally go weak with love when I think about my cluttered desk of paint covered paper, paint brushes, and various scraps of assorted papers. Visually, I feel more awakened than I have in years. This doesn't mean that I think everything I do is absolute genius. It means that I DON'T CARE if it is absolute genius, I am having TOO MUCH FUN. I feel filled with inspiration. It's really kind of a miracle.

As a result, I feel more hope than I have felt in a long time. I want to DO something in my life, and I am. This is very very exciting. I don't know what it means or where it will go--if I think too hard about it, the old monkeys start showing up and saying, "You know, you're not THAT GOOD. What a COPY CAT, what a TIME WASTER..." and then what's the point of anything?

All this is to say that last night after the movie, all drunk on Capote's MOVIE life, I realized it isn't just enough to just be inspired anymore. I want to actually take up inspiration's offer and ACT ON IT. I want to LIVE an inspired life, not some imaginary scenario that feels good to dream about. I may not live in the fifties or be famous, but I can still take out the notebooks and write. And when I got home, it was late, but that's just what I did.