I will show ya

I'm not sure if it's just the time of year, that time when I can't produce because I'm too engulfed in the real world... I remember Paul in the living room saying "depressed people simply have more time," a great truth in this world I think. But also, my mentor once told me, you don't need a crutch, a disease, a grand problem, or a drink to be a great artist. In fact, if you do need those things, you're probably not. I don't know quite what I think of it all but this is my art: the way I move my arms when chasing seagulls, the way I'm so desperate to smell the sky.

The art I have is living, no way for me to stop and sit down most of the time. Truth is, great talent isn't the same thing as art. I want nothing to do with writing or sharing my stories, most of the time. I want to be able to have a real conversation about the heart of life with people, engage in how wild the little things really are, pet a kitten, cry over a not-even-that-sad thing. I just want to continue feeling something grander than how things are. Is that an art?