u/TrafficInc

Is it gonna be a problem? A question when I was asked when I was in the infantile stages of motivation for a new piece. I said no. Definitive. Precise. Conforming?

No.

I was egregiously in the arts. My motivation confused even myself. I found high school wasn’t learning enough; so I would fill the boring time and “learning time” with pretty drawings of my design.

To create.

A pleasurable feeling, and by the end one must be left wondering… What else was I told I should be doing?
A love to void all other stimuli whilst carefully chasing a line on a page with your mark-maker.

Two sides.

If I were Canadian I’d be a loonie. I’ve seen both sides of my art. The boring and the castrated, opposed by my self alleged greatest. I somehow got into art scħool with the happenings of both damned coins.

Higher education.

I wasn’t looking to do art as a job. I just happened to be quite decent at it. Perhaps that’s all I saw “collège” as.
A means to more money by enabling your desires and skills to push you further with guidance.
Both of which I found neither. My time was brief due to money issues I couldn’t solve. (Emphasis on i)

Financial stupidity.

A terrible game of hide and seek I play. Finances are not something you can hide from easily. Unfortunately I was caught. Going to school isn’t easy when living with someone you never knew before school. Let alone in an apartment you’re now paying for; hundreds, if not thousands of miles away from your closest loved ones.

The blame game.

Do you blame yourself for the first of many blunders life spatters your face with? Nay, can you blame those around you who also were none the wiser. Nay.
Can you blame yourself? I wish. Then I’d know whose fault it was. Me myself and I’s. Sometimes you’ve got to forgive yourself and hit the ground trudging.

The waiting game.

I’d say I’m patient. More patient than most. Or maybe tolerant is a better word. I can deal with as much bs as the next guy. It’s really a daily quota kind of thing.
But I really hate waiting for time to pass so I can move onto the next step. You’re telling me I have to do stuff between the big things? Like eating and drinking???

Synopsis.

It’s 2:43 in the AM and I’m not a radio so I’ve got to sleep. So to wrap it up. Anyone can agree and disagree mutually that art is in everything. Art is such a broad beautiful beast. When I was 3 years younger I just preferred it over English class. Hence it was a “problem”. Or is it a symptom.

P.S. I was told this was better suited for here.

P.P.S. After this post was removed from that subreddit despite not being in violation of said rule. (Up for interpretation like art always is)

Is it gonna be a problem? A question when I was asked when I was in the infantile stages of motivation for a new piece. I said no. Definitive. Precise. Conforming?

No.

I was egregiously in the arts. My motivation confused even myself. I found high school wasn’t learning enough; so I would fill the boring time and “learning time” with pretty drawings of my design.

To create.

A pleasurable feeling, and by the end one must be left wondering… What else was I told I should be doing?
A love to void all other stimuli whilst carefully chasing a line on a page with your mark-maker.

Two sides.

If I were Canadian I’d be a loonie. I’ve seen both sides of my art. The boring and the castrated, opposed by my self alleged greatest. I somehow got into art scħool with the happenings of both damned coins.

Higher education.

I wasn’t looking to do art as a job. I just happened to be quite decent at it. Perhaps that’s all I saw “collège” as.
A means to more money by enabling your desires and skills to push you further with guidance.
Both of which I found neither. My time was brief due to money issues I couldn’t solve. (Emphasis on i)

Financial stupidity.

A terrible game of hide and seek I play. Finances are not something you can hide from easily. Unfortunately I was caught. Going to school isn’t easy when living with someone you never knew before school. Let alone in an apartment you’re now paying for; hundreds, if not thousands of miles away from your closest loved ones.

The blame game.

Do you blame yourself for the first of many blunders life spatters your face with? Nay, can you blame those around you who also were none the wiser. Nay.
Can you blame yourself? I wish. Then I’d know whose fault it was. Me myself and I’s. Sometimes you’ve got to forgive yourself and hit the ground trudging.

The waiting game.

I’d say I’m patient. More patient than most. Or maybe tolerant is a better word. I can deal with as much bs as the next guy. It’s really a daily quota kind of thing.
But I really hate waiting for time to pass so I can move onto the next step. You’re telling me I have to do stuff between the big things? Like eating and drinking???

Synopsis.

It’s 2:43 in the AM and I’m not a radio so I’ve got to sleep. So to wrap it up. Anyone can agree and disagree mutually that art is in everything. Art is such a broad beautiful beast. When I was 3 years younger I just preferred it over English class. Hence it was a “problem”. Or is it a symptom.

P.S. I tried posting this to the art lounge as philosophical dilemma and they took it down for rule 5 on their sub.

P.P.S. I hope it’s a good read :)