this artist life
Our truest responsibility to the irrationality of the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find the truth.
- Madeleine L'Engle
how my heart behaves
These days have mostly been quiet and unsubstantial. One would think that an entire week of free time would be the precursor to extensive hours of reading, deep moments while standing on the back deck in the cold winter air with a beer in hand, or a cigarette. Whatever makes you feel more contemplative.
In reality I’m not doing anything at all. No books, no writing, no romantic artistic notions or discoveries.
This, at least, lines up with my developing perspective on what it means to be human- some weeks will have the moments of deep reflection, of flowing writing and sweet epiphany. Most other weeks will be lazy, and that’s fine. Having a lazy week doesen’t mean that my entire artistic self has been abandoned.
Then again, there is also the place of building an artistic perspective, feeding the inner artist. This is the kind of week that makes me want to be more intentional about art, seeking to get better at writing instead of waiting for the good poems to just happen.
