Definition of an artist:

An artist is a person who works toward a specific goal, doing anything and everything as well as sacrificing anything and everything to reach that goal.  It doesn’t matter if it’s sleep or sustenance, family or friends.  Every loss along the way is for the greater good of reaching your goal.

Everyone wants something from you, and you want something from everyone.  Scratching backs form your daily exercise routine.  In addition, you work in an industry that screws you with a smile.  Then at the end of the day when your ass hurts from all the assholes that have been in it, well then it’s your turn to smile, knowing you’ve somehow advanced yourself toward the goal. 

Maybe at some point along the road you met someone who momentarily superseded your goal in importance, and with the fences down, you open your world to them.  Then the goal comes back into play and you feel great because you have succeeded in pursuing your goal while maintaining a relationship with the “one”.  Of course, then you find out that there was another “one” for them, and you’re left wondering if it wasn’t because of your goal.

So you continue to pursue your goal...and ignore the bodies falling along the road.  Every now and again you find a warm body, someone who at the end of the day tells you how great you are, which is something all artists live off of.  But since you’ve installed the barbed wire and electric fencing with radioactive watchdogs patrolling through the landmine infested ditches alongside the road, that person only becomes a poor substitute in your quest for security.  Besides, they don’t truly understand what you are, what you’ve become, and you doubt that anyone ever will. 

Then you turn back toward your friends and family, the ones you slowly and inadvertently forgot, the ones you took for granted because you thought they’d always be there, the ones who have also fallen victim to the goal.  By now all the warm bodies are cold, so you look up toward the light at the end of the tunnel.  Only when you get there, you realize that the light was just the reflection of your over-inflated self-importance. 

10, 20, 30 years pass and you look around at the artists that have succeeded, that aren’t screwed by the industry, that have the one in their lives who really does understand and tolerate them, that are surrounded by friends and family, and suddenly your bitterness and jealously turns into poetry, lyrics, and finally dust.  That’s all you have left, the goal having stripped you of everything.

Is it really that bad?  No.  The stress, the pain, the heartache, the falling down, and the loneliness sometimes make me think it is.  Artists do sacrifice a lot.  I firmly believe that every time I sit down to write I lose another hour off my lifespan.  And it is truly hard to find people who understand you, which makes traveling the road alone easy.  So why do artists do it?  Why do I do it?

Because there is something inside of me that is so great, so passionate, so explosive, that the only thing for me to do is to throw it out to the world as hard as I can and hope that the suffering along the road is not in vain.

...back to the ramblings archive...

home   ·   novels   ·   poetry   ·   ramblings   ·   biography
pictures   ·    news   ·   contact   ·   links   ·   webrings