The enemy within

I have been jobless now for over two months. My time is occupied with finding one, contemplating life, getting together an outreach night with my Bible Study group, and working on massive art pieces for church. Stretched doesn't even begin to express the way I feel. But bored does. Weird, I know. I have tons to do but a sort of lifelessness about it.

It's my heart. The heart of my being. My art. It's suffering. My special worship to God is suffering. My confidence is waning. I feel incapable to do any type of art whatsoever. It's a kind of depression. It grabs ahold of my very soul and it sucks the life out of me. It's Spring in New Zealand!! Spring always excites me, yet I feel nothing.

I think a lie must have been whispered into my ear some time back. The lie that I can't do anything good enough. My guard must have been down. I want to paint soooooooo bad, but when I want to do it, my doubt and fear of failure creeps in.

If it wasn't for church, I wouldn't be doing anything. But the work I am doing at church is more of a 3-D thing and more instillation work and found object work than anything else. I am completely unfamiliar with this type of art, but I'm trying to try. And I feel like I'm going to screw everything up, so I'm afraid to try a lot. It's a struggle.


But I really want to paint. My fingers itch for it. I want to be here again, where I was when I wrote this entry last year:

I know how it is, when you're just doing art and feeling in the flow of
creativity. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The sky darkens and you're
floating in your own paradise of colors.

It's like a certain hunger, burning to let the creativity out. Art, Music, Writing; it's all so important. Time seems to stand still, and there you are, creator and canvas, ink and pen, held in an embrace, dancing, and sharing many intense emotional moments. The music flows throughout and all is well, for you have become one, molded together. And as you pause and gaze into your creation, you can't help but to feel the energy flow through your veins -- for your work has bloomed into a beautiful masterpiece.

I long to be there again.