Caution: I’m not using caution as I (Kurt) write this.
I said I was going to write more, but I haven’t. I started the year off with two quick posts, as I recall, but fell off again. Too sad lately. Not a lot of inspiration, to be honest. Tired.
This was the first winter in recent memory that I really didn’t sketch or draw much. I don’t know if it’s tiredness due to my age or sadness, but I have been going to bed earlier. I think because I feel bedtime is an escape from the terror of daily life. And when I say terror of daily life, I genuinely mean that it is terrifying. So terrifying is a new day to me that I never sleep through the night anymore. Bedtime is safe for me. I feel safe in my bed. I find joy in going to bed and looking at other artists’ work that inspires me, architecture, motivating quotes, etc. Then I drift away with happy and creative thoughts.
Sadly, I wake up during the night. I typically wake up in a cold sweat at 3:00 in the morning, not being able to sleep again. And my mind thinks the opposite of what it was thinking when I went to bed hours earlier: from happy and creative thoughts to embarrassed and frustrated thoughts of how I’ve blown it and wasted my life. My mind gears up and starts spinning and spiralling about all that could go wrong with the upcoming day. Sundays are the worst. I usually start worrying about Monday on Sunday at around 4:00 in the afternoon. In fact, most Sunday nights I don’t sleep more than an hour. Not nice.
I think my daily work is so disconnected from the creativity that I need that it might slowly be killing me.
But! The Farmers’ Market started today. I think once we get geared up for another season in the park and sell a few shirts, my creativity will come alive once again. I’ll crawl out of the darkness and want to share my artwork with folks! I seem to need that spark to fire me up. I definitely feel energized when customers positively react to our shirts. Even better when customers purchase them! I also look forward to the laughter that we enjoy at the market. I felt the spark today and shared some good laughs with my brother (Kris) and a couple customers. It was nice to share the laughter in the sun.
But. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. Shortly after I got back home from the market, my mood tanked and I’ve been sour ever since … seven hours and counting at this point. The sickening part is I’m in the middle of a long weekend and I’m completely disconnected from happiness. I’ve got nothing left, it seems. A person can act happy and fight for only so long.
Remember earlier when I said I didn’t know if my reason for going to bed was tiredness due to my age or sadness? Well, I think I’ve pinpointed it. Without going into a long and exhausting story of my history (that I’m sure I’ve already blathered on about), I have been going through a career change for the past 5 – 8 years now, and it is a complete and total emotional ride through hell for me. I just can’t gain traction. I can’t seem to progress with any forward momentum. My situation is literally two steps forward, one step back. Sometimes it even feels like one step forward, two steps back. What’s another one … beating a dead horse? Yes, I am beating a dead horse. And bashing my head against the wall. Sometimes I actually feel like bashing my head into a brick wall.
I’m just tired of fighting. My best is never good enough. I’ve been feeling this shitty feeling coming on for a few weeks and I’ve reached a point now where I just about don’t care anymore. I rarely draw anymore; I just can’t seem to make myself pick up a pencil. What’s the point? I don’t really feel like riding my bike anymore. What’s the point? I own a convertible that I could play around with in the summer. What’s the point? Go for a walk. Pointless. Sex. Pointless. Watch TV. Pointless. Everything is completely pointless. I’m scared I’m losing my creativity and it’s completely horrifying.
I have no real reason for writing this other than for it to be part of the story behind Crock of Shirt. I write posts to show ideas and what we’ve been up to. I like to give a glimpse of what’s going on behind the senes and what’s going on otherwise. Sometimes I like to write about other unrelated nonsense. As I write this, I’m wondering what the point of even writing this is. There probably isn’t a point. Nothing matters. You’re born, you do pointless stuff, you get cancer, then die. I honestly and truly, 100% wish my heart would stop and just be done with it all — 100%.
Maybe things will turn around. Maybe I’ll get a spark again. I dunno. Stay tuned …