creative sorrow
i'm currently sitting here in a state of chaotic disorder with hands covered in a mixture of modge-podge, gray and black paint, scraps of paper and pictures. strange how a state of numbing discontent can be a catalyst for a creative burst. there is a soothing quality to loosing myself in brushes, canvas, colors. these pieces reflect tonight's troubled state of mind and i feel that something has been transferred, released. while the numbness remains, the chaos that whirled within me has found purchase on 4 x 6 rectangles, trapped within glue and paint like bugs in amber. perhaps now there can be a place for calm.
what's so scary about silence?
without noise there is no buffer, nothing to blot out thoughts, nothing to hide behind. noise allows the mind to fill up with clutter, 30 second soundbites, witty one-liners, jingles, useless trivia. noise crowds out uncomfortable thoughts, provides a numbing relief much like novacaine. after a full day of sensory overload the brain nearly tingles; quiet is too quiet, loud in the absence of sound. like a junkie searching for the next fix, the mind looks for a new source, new sounds, new sensory explosions. if it can't find something new, then old hat will do just as long as the quiet is silenced with noise.
who needs an attention span when the headlines repeat endlessly every half hour? when television screens are split into numerous sections filled with stats, scrolling info lines, and flashing icons, a virtual candy store for the eye; why shouldn't the brain be able to take it all in? Here, constantly available, at your very fingertips, is all the information you may or may not need. This is not noise, but vital information. If you disconnect, unplug, how can you be informed?
this is an addiction. just say no?
