It cuts down more aspiring artists than anything else. It is what Steven Pressfield in his book The War of Art calls “Resistance.” “Excuses” and “self-doubt” don’t seem to adequately describe it’s evolving power. How does an artist overcome this destructive debilitation? (more…)
It felt like being burned alive. My first bad DXM trip. For the first time in my adolescent life, I knew I had gone somewhere where my parents, rock solid and deeply resented by me, could not save me.
I was alone with something awful. (more…)
Most enjoy art, be it movies, books, paintings. Some have a talent for producing it. Fewer put in the repetition of work to truly be transformed by its production. They don’t perfect their craft.
This is how I stay sane while consistently writing: (more…)
It’s like this dream that haunts you in the middle of the night, when the more pressing concerns of your day-to-day life have calmed down. To have the potential to create something truly great and unique to you, it can be a cruel burden to bear. This article will detail my process of keeping my feet moving towards my dream.
I could recognize that I had a knack for writing,. If financial security was not a factor, I would have been able to say that a dream career would have been in the writing field. Maybe even journalism. Writing was a good outlet for me.
What I was, was a walking nervous breakdown with a penchant for black-out drinking and couch-wetting. Discipline was a dirty word and nothing lay beyond that glorious explosion of instant gratification. When I got sober (and the perpetually dry couch had lost its ‘wow!’ factor), I wanted to live.
Inspiration would eventually strike me like a fist to write a book. I got to work, and then…nothing. A folder with dog-eared pieces of notebook paper curling around the edges (where I kept my rough-draft pages) sat in the corner of my bedroom. It put a bad taste in my mouth every time I saw it. It was like the folder had contempt for me in its very fibers, and I felt myself a worthy recipient. Soon, I got myself into silly predicaments with women at AA meetings, frustrations of my own making at work, and general imbalance of mood.
Because I was becoming bored. (more…)