Somehow, in the midst of all the madness happening this week, I’ve still found some time to ponder life and my position in it. I realized that I am not with the people that drive creativity in ways that I’m seeking. I haven’t found the same “free” atmosphere as when I was in college and, although that will never be recreated, I thrived in that. Eight — no nine — years of stifled and forced writing is enough to drive a person to drink. Combined with the lack of time to paint or play an instrument, and I’m seeing some very dark and physically aggressive sides of myself that I don’t like. Part of me wants to go to the local coffee/art houses and seek out these people; the shy person fears rejection while the party girl takes her good ol’ time primping and getting ready. It’s a fear/disposition that’s been with me since a very, very young age. I couldn’t go up to the fast food restaurant cashier and order a cheeseburger when I was 6 or 7! In fact, I don’t think I did that until 13. That explains my predilection for the solo arts rather than collaborative projects. It’s not that I don’t get along with people. Quite the opposite, in fact. My problem is letting people get to know the real me. I prefer to keep a few close friends, and my business is my business. So, don’t take it personally. It’s just who I am.
(note to self: explain outlook on creativity to readers in later post)