|One of my faves ever. Bogotá, Colombia.|
(not the artist from the documentary)
|Art of one of the most prolific artists ever to live. Denver, Colorado, USA|
The inspiration to create doesn't seem to be the key factor in my lack of production. Every day I experience the beauty and sadness of our earthly existence. Every day I notice moments, observe love, listen to seagulls loudly squawk. Every day I am taking things in, and every day the moments die inside. To the point that I'm making myself sick. Things feel off. I feel lost.
|How life should be. Buenos Aires, Argentina.|
There may be no one that ever reads this, and I'm okay with that. But I am not motivated by fame or "being known" or whatever. I am motivated by being bored and frustrated and feeling lost. I am motivated by the feelings that I get when I watch others go through their journeys and realize I've taken way too long of a lazy break of my own. I am motivated by the longing to feel like I belong somewhere, a struggle of my entire life. I really want to feel like I belong in my own skin, on my own crazy, blessed, unique path. I can't lie when I say that I do want to feel like I'm helping others, making a difference, not matter how small. But I can't help anyone else until I help myself first. So I write. And write...