06.13.2019 ink&rage excerpt.
What’s the saying?
“find what you love and let it kill you?"
well, my art seemed to be simultaneously sustaining and killing me. I felt consumed by it. with pure love and grotesque resentment.
Being driven mad by it, as we only are by things we truly love.
Can’t quit. Can’t give up. At all costs--- I come back to it.
Reduced to the degrading for it,
And crawling back to it. day and night.
Like a sickness.
Like an addiction. Infected, as I struggled to detach.
Exhilarated and exhausted by it.
try to form it—but the pen in my hand takes the lead.
Flowing through my blood,
Turned to ink on the page.
Only slowed by my feeble human form.
Art in my soul,
My life source,
No choice but to keep it alive at all costs.