First Things First, It's Not Always So Pretty...

Here I find myself, seated in a studio that left so much impact on me so long ago and all I can do is put a twisted piece of wire on a wall with  a dangle of ripped muslin... What are you doing? Do you know that you're blowing it? That's all I can think..."DON'T BLOW IT! DON'T SCREW UP!" When did perfection turn into what I strive for?

First time in the studio, I criticized everything I did.

Several times after, I continued the battle that consistently haunted this process....

... until I finally gave in to whatever it was that insisted I was nothing...

   ....the moment that happened left nothing but complete relief.

         FINALLY, I could just make, make, make without any sort of edit weighing on my conscious.


I want to get back to that place. I want to lose all sense of reality.... fall completely into a realm where nothing else exists and spiral out of any sort of self, a machine just pumping ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING out, not a care in the world. This world does not appear in that place....

That place:

   n. omission of self awareness, eradication of consciousness, state of only existence - between self and materials, self and ideas, ideas and execution, thoughts and mind mapping, streams upon streams of unedited rambling

This world:

   n. current, stale, completely confined in restricted thought, painfully self aware, existing to hear criticism, ideas are denied before they are even executed, thoughts are poison, streams are polluted

Grant me the space to get back to 'that place' and away from my current disgrace!