for real the most successful moment of my life was this music video
This is really intense for me, because this is exactly what artist’s block feels like. You’ve got color all around you, all over you, inside of you, in your fucking soul, and you can’t get it out on that canvas, that sketchpad, that digital screen that just sits there and yawns, white and infinite in front of you like an enemy, or worse, like a lover you can’t hold because they’re too far away. You sense what you could do if the lines and shapes and colors would come to you, but it all stays just beyond your straining fingers, no matter how hard you reach for it. It’s worse than a sense of your own inadequacy; it’s fear and it’s pain, and it’s everything you feel like you could accomplish but can’t because somehow, the colors won’t transfer from your hands, from your being, onto that white surface. You can’t paint. You can’t even begin.
I’ve never known how to put this personal agony into words, but there it is, raw and exact.
I’m sure there’s a way past the barrier. I know there is. Perhaps I’m just trying too hard.
During holiday without any deadlines, making coffee is the most art (student) related thing I ever do. A small success every time.