Me #1: This is your 3rd post in one day. You’re for sure going to burn out and quit by next week.
Me #2: You’re probably right. But let’s get on with it anyway, shall we?
One of the things that never fails to inspire and astound me is the amount of creativity that’s actually out there. The best part is that since nearly everything has gone virtual, there’s really no limit to the type of art you find yourself “digging”. You’re bound to stumble across a certain band or book or poet or dancer, etc. that will help you get through your day, at the very least. If you really like them, you can even get inspired: the physical urge to want to do something similar or produce something just as great.
For example, I just stepped out of Keone & Mari’s immersive artistic palace in order to try and create something of my own, even if it’s just a mere blog post. The dynamic pair’s headstrong philosophies about creating are deeply rooted in passion and perseverance in their craft (which is mainly dancing, but they are quite talented in other fields too). That’s one of the biggest things I probably always misconceive when it comes to art. I keep thinking that it’s fueled solely by passion, creativity, and the innate talent you were born with. But slowly, I’m starting to see that art can be a pretty painful process. Sometimes, it’s not just a hobby to relieve stress in your free time; sometimes it’s the one thing that causes you stress (i.e. “I’m not good enough” mentality).
I think it has a lot to do with the way we perceive art to be this enigmatic being – something that’s not as tangible and practical as let’s say…solving a math problem. You know what I’m saying? There’s no algorithm for art; there’s no one way to express yourself. In a sense, the whole romanticization of it is kind of the reason why I struggle with it. Here’s a simple everyday example: I want to write a story. I think about it all day, especially when I’m supposed to be focusing on something else. Then I sit down in front of my laptop and write nothing. For hours, I sit with a blank screen until I move onto rewatching Youtube videos that “inspire” me.
I’m constantly stuck in this fantasy cloud of how wonderful this new project of mine is going to be, but I never actually turn those artistic visions into a reality. I don’t put in the dirty work (as in practicing the skill everyday) because I know that the moment I encounter something that feels like busy work, I don’t consider it “art” anymore. That’s why I need to stop perceiving art as this indefinable, abstract concept. It’s just as much hard work as anything else, which is why I admire and cherish it so much more.
That’s why this blog is starting to mean a little more than just a new hobby. I want to be able to create something – physical evidence to show that I am not just living everyday with glazed eyes, half asleep, simply going through the motions (which is what I have been feeling all the time lately).
The thing is I mainly work with words (at least for now) and sometimes, words get a little too long for one’s liking. A little too boring, a little too redundant. These days, fiction stories and blog posts are nothing compared to viral videos or catchy soundtracks. Those forms of media are what’s peaking these days and i can understand why. It takes me 2 seconds to decide if I like a song; it takes me 20 pages to decide if I like a book. I think that’s the most challenging part: how to stay relevant in a constantly progressive, hustle-and-bustle type of environment.
Also, I have nothing to give you except my words. I don’t have any captivating dance videos or ingeniously crafted songs or eye-catching photography to prove my credibility to you. That’s what scares me: I’m a nobody. It means you don’t have to listen to whatever I have to say. And sometimes, it makes me believe that even I don’t have the right to say anything at all. But I think that’s also my biggest advantage at this point. I mean, if I’m a nobody then what do I have to lose, right?