Sunday, August 22, 2010

Schizoartistic Disorder

I've said it a million times before. Art is my sanctuary. Its my medicine. But medicine's a funny thing. In my business, medicine rarely fixes anything. It generally just masks the symptoms. As soon as you stop taking your medicine, the symptoms come back. And so it is with me. Art helps me drown out the voices. I know they're still talking. I just can't hear them so much when the music is playing.

When I start an artistic project, its usually because I need an outlet for my frustration. But because my outlet works so well, I sometimes forget what it was that I was frustrated about. This tends to leave me open to being blindsided. When I wrap up some project, high on the creative juices, I often forget that I got high for a reason. Then I come back down to earth and remember.

I spent the last two months on an artistic high. Movies. Music. Books. Photography. Its been nonstop. And now, as I wrap up most of these projects, I'm smacked with the realization that the summer is over and I'm back to the business as usual. I can already hear the voices calling me. Someone hand me my pills.

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