This is my very first blog entry *ever. If you know me personally, it might be surprising that I didn't already have a blog. Maybe upon learning that I am now blogging, a roll of the eyes will be triggered. The thing is not only can I talk A LOT, but my censoring function is practically nonexistent. My mind is dirty and my soul possibly tainted. It's not all bad. I'm actually an extremely positive person, but at the same time, quite the cynic. Bit of an oxymoron, I know. See, I think our species is selfish, stupid, arrogant, and in trouble, but I also majorly believe in the power of love. I think under the influence of love we stop being so damn selfish and do things that benefit someone besides ourselves. It truly is the healing agent. In the end I've come to realize I don't run on the same operating system as most people, and I fucking love it. Makes me feel like less of a moron. For all I know it makes me more of one, but it's what I'm sticking with.
Anyways, enough about who I am. This post is about a loss of inspiration.
I love creative minds and try my luck at being one. My creativity finds avenues in acting, DJing, writing poetry, song lyrics, making electronic dance music, and whatever idea happens to drive itself into my psyche. I understand that art is an emotional thing, so while I'm no cry baby, I drown myself in emotion and let things affect me as much as possible in hopes that my emotional function will grow strong enough to not make crap. That, and to have emotions at the ready in my acting pursuits. I kinda feel like a lot of what I have made so far is crap, but that's okay, I have enough vision to see what isn't there yet.
The thing is... my creative endeavors have come to a standstill! It's the very reason I find myself writing this. My need to express is intact, but inspiration is lacking. Last thing I began working on was a song titled "Artist Without a Muse". The lyrics are done, and have been for a couple of months now, but the music is not. The song itself tells me what's lacking and I've come to realize I'm in the market for a new muse. A Pam to my Jim Morrison.
I've had a few over the years, and was most inspired back in high school by my high school sweetheart. First love will do that to you. Years later, I ran into her and found she had kept every poem I gave her. It felt like she treasured them. I felt like my efforts met their purpose. I thought I would be met with the same enthusiasm by any girl who inspired me enough to create. If you just laughed at that notion, good for you.
Turns out all that romantic crap you see in movies can come off as needy and weird to some girls. Watch them in the theater and you'd think you have lucked upon a magical talent because hey, I can do that! Don't get me wrong, some things work just as well as the movies. Like just fucking taking a girl and tossing her around like a rag doll while she says your name in a way that only those moments can create. Good times indeed. The cynic in me gets it. The artist in me sees it as a curse. I want both worlds.
If I could just pick anyone, this thing would be a cinch, but it just isn't how it works. It is something completely involuntary. A gut feeling I can't eradicate no matter how hard I try. My current dilemma is that the girl that has inspired me the last few years isn't really on the band wagon and my friends think I'm really stupid now for sticking with it so long. One of them practically sent me an intervention email. It's understandable they would feel that way, after all, I had a girlfriend when I first discovered she inspired me, she had a boyfriend she was really in love with during a lot of this, and we haven't really gone past kissing a few times. The chips have been stacked against me for a while. I shouldn't even have bothered maybe, but I couldn't leave it alone. I bought into the idea of winning her heart and it inspired me to write and create at a time when I had virtually stopped. That felt good.
Here I am again now. I want to feel inspired, but the fire feels expired. I wrote the lyrics to "Artist Without a Muse" when I got drunk a couple of days after giving her something I made on my baby's momma's computer (yes, you read that right) and she hadn't even bothered to text a simple thank you. I went online and while not naming anyone specific, essentially said "you don't appreciate the time I've spent creating things for you, you don't deserve me." It's probably true even, but not the way those things should be said. Needless to say she wasn't happy and neither was the hungover me. She pretty much told me to fuck off. The loss of what I never had, but wanted so badly, drove me to write the lyrics.
Things have mellowed out and we sorta talk again now, but I just don't see any real interest from her, and I'm not about to continue coming off as some needy motherfucker with no life of his own. That ain't me. So what am I supposed to do? No one else I've met inspires me. I can't bring myself to work on the song even though I think I stumbled across the perfect person to help me release it when it's finished. I won't say what else I've made for her because I want it to remain special to her, but I gotta tell you, I keep finding things I had forgotten about that were inspired by her and all I can do is shake my head.
Okay then, I truly feel as my song title says. If it ever gets finished, you'll know what inspired it. We'll see. Right now life feels like I'm a surfer in a completely still ocean, waiting for a good wave to ride again.