This is Lydia Burris. This is my blog. This is where I ramble about my art, travel, inspirations, and stuff.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
SAVE ME FALCOR
I can't believe my last blog post was in MAY. And before that... DECEMBER.
Dang. I am super slacking when it comes to sharing more than a quick quip on status-update-social-sites. .....
Well. I crave going deeper... but have hit a sort of "this-all-seems-a-bit-pointless" syndrome, and a case of the "I-wish-I-was-having-the-type-of-adventures-I-had-when-I-was-in-college" wistfulness.
Even as I write this, I have an undeniable urge to just delete all this and go to bed. No one wants to hear this, no one should hear this. My brain doubts should remain secret from the public. My problems aren't even big enough to warrant sharing. But I'm not going to delete this... I don't think.
Man, the brain worms (doubt and self sabotage) have been getting fat the past few months. I wonder if this is depression. I smile in public, and I mean it. Its not a mask. Or is it? See... I'm floating in a sea of pointless self questioning and uncertain wants. If I try to dig at the root of this undefinable quivering uncomfortable vibration, I feel the sting of tears on the edges of my being. And yet I even nag at myself for feeling this way - I have so much to be thankful for. I have shelter with wood floors and almost a place for everything, an art studio downtown, I have a loving partner (who'm I just celebrated being with for 8 years! We spent the day watching parody kung fu movies) I have art, I have tons of cool stuff, and I have a part time job I really like.
But.... perhaps... the things that define me, that have defined me in the past seem to have dissipated.
I do not feel as free. I traveled so much when I was in college, and it FEELS like I travel all the time now, but its all to the inside of convention centers and hotels. I never really see the PLACES I travel to. And my art... and me as an artist.... have lost purpose. I am floating in space, surrounded by pretty colors and shapes, but nothing to grasp onto, nothing seems solid.
I need an adventure - not travel for the commercial side of my art business, but I need a good soul searching adventure.
I also need to eat better sometimes, and exercise, and spend less time on the computer. And maybe collaborators and co-conspirators. I need people to tap me on the shoulder and remind me to do art, or challenge me to an art duel.
Sometimes I feel like an appreciation-operated machine - when I get good attention or when someone buys art, I get that joyful rush. But I've sorta forgotten how to generate that rush on my own.
My boat is teetering on the sea of lethergy. Help me avoid rowing into the swamps of sadness. Also, make sure I don't fall into the bog of eternal stench... that doesn't seem to be a danger at this point, but I might as well cover all my movie-quote bases. Apparently there is a Sea of Possibilities in the Never Ending Story. That could be a good place to take my boat... so long as the NOTHING isn't threatening to wipe me away.
OH DEAR. Maybe this feeling *IS* the Nothing! The 'evil' from my MOST WATCHED CHILDHOOD MOVIE is coming to haunt me! I'm at the point in my life where I have to do battle with those untouchable demons of depression, lack of interest, and drive to care.
NO WONDER my 'new' car is named Falkor. SEE???? Falkor will save me with a meaningful life ROAD TRIP, where I will encounter the princess (my inner child) and give her a new name
. AHH!!! I think I need to go read some Joseph Campbell. The hero's journey. Its time to get myself out of this dank cavern and be reborn.
See, journals really are a great thing for self dialogue and finding answers.
Posted by Lydia Burris at 8:30 AM 4 comments:
Labels: craving adventure, depression, doubts, falkor, the swamps of sadness
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