When I was younger, especially in my late teens painting, drawing, songwriting, and music felt very exciting and full of life. When I played a chord on my guitar it seemed to resonate with vitality. A simple drawing was like a touchstone to another level of meaning.
The visual art of my heroes always looked great and profound. While the music and songwriting reverberated with untouchable importance. In fact my own art actions felt resplendent in contrast to my normal actions, although they were meager when I look back over my catalogue.
Do we as artists or people in general, over time, become encapsulated in a cocoon of past events, that nullifies our sense of vitality? Do we get trapped in time warps of our own making that cause us to lose momentum? Or, do we just run out of puff?
Who knows? And I don’t care! I just think, I will try to do art the rest of my life.