I'm aroused. Yes. Aroused. Anyone reading this will surely think I'm certifiably insane, but I do sincerely get aroused when I'm struck by true creative inspiration. It's not overtly sexual and certainly not quite orgasmic, but I'm tingling with anticipation. I'm excited. I'm nervous. My heart is beating a bit quicker and I'm a little scared. It's all because I saw the most beautiful work tonight and it knocked my socks off. Well, I wasn't actually wearing socks, but I was impressed nonetheless! I now have a barrage of inspiring and imaginative imagery flowing through my mind and I can't wait to start creating!
Start. I should start. But why am I always so reluctant to start? Well, let's see. What if starting doesn't lead to finishing? Or what if it does, but it isn't successful? What if the work isn't a true reflection of what I saw in my mind? What if I inadvertently reveal a bit too much about myself? That's always a huge worry. (Oh my gawd! What are people saying???) What if no one says anything? (Oh my GAWD! What are they thinking???) Acceptance? Praise? Why do I even care? I don't know. I only know that art and fear are the constant companions of my creative soul.
When I picked up this sketchbook, it began to make sense. I'm afraid. I'm total chicken shit! I just need to make a move. I need to chart a course and never look back. I need to simply do what I am so afraid to do. So here I go. My aroused and extremely ample body is about to be airborne. Watch me fly.
(And please buy my art!)