Art Fuel


Sicily was a beautiful place and is one I'd definitely revisit.

Sicily was a beautiful place and is one I’d definitely revisit.

Hello, everyone.  Sorry for the delay.  I had jet-lag and a hearty helping of writer’s block to contend with, but I hope y’all are ready for more posts because I have plenty of material now.  I’m not one for shout-outs, but I have one for my favorite professor.  Thank you, Dr. Stacey, for being the inspiration for this post.  You made this comment in passing, and it had nothing to do with our class discussion.  Still, a spark is a spark.

The world’s great artists weren’t the most stable people.  In fact, they probably do it because they were happy.


This is a generalized statement and by no means applies to everything, but it lends credence to a personal theory I’ve been investigating.  Life’s pain can be an effective fuel for art.  I have anxiety and depression and am medicated for both.  When life’s at its lowest, I throw myself into my dancing even harder than when I’m on a high.  I just want to forget.  I want to wear myself out, so I can fall asleep as  soon as my head hits the pillow.  That’s when I go for it.

I have no idea why such sadness can produce such beauty.  It’s beyond me.  Do you think it’s because we put more of ourselves into it when we’re in pain?  Is there more to let go?  Again, I don’t know.  What I do know is that euphoric feelings tend to immobilize me.  I just want to sit, soak, and drink it in as much as possible.  I’m hoping I can find more leads to this theory, but until then, I’m gonna keep dancing.


The floor is yours now.

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