Change. I sit here thinking how much I need it, yet it's not an issue of changing but returning. I reflect on all the choices I have made, leading me to here. Here being someone complete different. At the core of my being I feel I am an independent, free thinking, emotional artist. Yet, when I think of my present self, those characteristics are so minimal. I can't seem to bring myself to paint.
Last year, I spent the whole summer revitalizing my garden. Artistic expression via plants and flowers. Around the same time, I started I made a choice to be more healthy. Workout more.
And now, who am I? A gardener and a gym rat? That feels so vanilla. I'm even listening to more sentimental pop music.
Am I just getting old? I don't think so. I need to refocus and remind myself of the euphoria of creative expression.
I have some ideas I just need to get off my ass and find a brush.
1:25 p.m. - March 17, 2016
Recent entries:
Change. - March 17, 2016
Yes, I have returned. - March 12, 2016
Me being overly analytical of Britney and Christina - July 31, 2008
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Fantasy is sometimes better than reality. - July 24, 2008
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