To be an artist, a creative, when inspiration has abandoned you is torture with a capital T. You feel forsaken, lost to any purpose of living. It rips through to the very essence of your being. It’s not like I haven’t tried to push the work, but every attempt is dislocated to any redeeming feature of the piece. It’s not the first time, but it’s lasted over two months and the frustration is extremely painful.
For me there have been several mitigating circumstances. Firstly, Christmas and New Year, always a difficult time when you live alone. Secondly, the lack of success in sales. This point always affects a questioning of why I’m doing what I’m doing, is there any purpose to it except for my own gratification. Am I any good at it, and is not art simply a frivolous pastime? Well, I’ve had compliments from professionals, galleries and a wider audience, but I’m not a salesman, and I lack the self-confidence to dismiss rejection. So where do I go now?
Do I just give it all up, a lifetime of work and self-development, or do I hunker down and hold onto patience? Another thing also affects me, and that is stress. There is so much of it around, especially with the war in Ukraine. I heard that stress, or an underlying angst, motivates an artist. Well, in my case it kills it. So here’s to patience and the rumbling future of inspiration. Let’s hope I can last that long or let it die peacefully.