Woke up around 2 am this morning and after tending to the early hour ablutions then tried to get back to sleep when Jams decided to do some Kitty Olympics with trampolining from the bed to the window to the bed to the floor and back again until I was going to do my own Olympic manoeuvre - the high kick - when she came over all sweet and purry and the best darn friend I ever had, thereby winning a reprieve. And then I couldn't sleep and lay there until 4 mulling obsessively about:
*sigh* (dramatically done of course)
Anyratsarechewingmybuttway, Life is particularly 'swampish' at the moment - part of the reason I'm so not blogging with cheerful tales of this artistic life (insert dramatic snort here) and all that, but what has me musing is how the art I am creating is some of the best I've done to date.
So, what is it about creating great Art and having a really butt kicking personal life that seems to work? This is a generalization, obviously, but in the majority of artistic lives it seems to hold true. Do we need the torture of chaos to make us channel that bleakness into powerful artwork? Does happiness and smooth sailing blunt the artistic feeling? Is it some kind of 'peeling' to a basic point of feeling there is nothing left but to create?
I have no answer.
All I know right now is that I'm just hanging on by the paintbrush.....