PSjustwords

Creative growth is something that is vital to existing as an artist. I have been on this journey of passion for as long as I can remember, but it wasn't until a little over four years ago during a college drawing class that I had realized that I needed to spill my thoughts onto paper. So let me take you on a little part of of my personal creative journey, and share with you the moment that ignited my creative spark and has kept me going to this day; my final presentation given to a class of thirty, hands shaking, voice breaking and heart racing. With the backdrop of sleepless nights of meticulous creative passion behind me; ink, paint and words—lots of words, I made myself vulnerable.

We wander these streets wondering if maybe one of these days we’re going to find ourselves amongst the chaos, among the trees, hiding and yearning to be found. Everyday I wander and search for something that can’t be found, something that maybe doesn’t exist. That something is passion, passion for something, someone, ourselves. Passion exists. It is something so beautiful and powerful that most of the time is a feeling so incomprehensible that we believe that we are incapable of possessing it. I am a wanderer…lost in a sea of madness. The world that surrounds me is mediocre at best, exciting yes, interesting maybe, but pointless without being passionate about something. This is where I truly lose myself…I realize that I am not passionate about anything. Reaching deep down into my soul I realize that I do possess a passion, a passion to create and discover parts of myself that I did not know existed. It is amazing to realize that a soul so young can be so complex. These thoughts that only now I have been able to acknowledge have been burning a hole in who I am. I was lost and still am, but the road that I have finally discovered, the one that leads to to the deepest and darkest parts of myself is finally one that I feel brave enough to explore and conquer. On this road I will find pieces of a broken person, pieces of a broken heart and pieces of who I actually am. Picking up the pieces of something that is broken is difficult and putting that something back together requires tedious effort. This is something that I am finally prepared to do. At last I am brave enough to realize who I am and who I want to be. • 3:03 pm  •  11 April 2014

To be great is to be misunderstood. I tremble with the need to unravel the vines that are clinging to my throat and wrap around my brain. The words come out like spilled coffee…no mercy. But virgin ears refuse to acknowledge my madness.• 2:07 am  •  16 April 2014

 
Why is it that throughout our lives we yearn for the most impossible, unrealistic, fucked up, frivolous, dangerous and ridiculous things? This happens because we are all dreamers lost in a sea of madness. This world is cruel and unfair and we have to deal with the consequences of treading the unknown, but the most beautifully powerful thing that we own is curiosity which leads us to discover ourselves alongside the universe that surrounds us. This universe is marvelous, something so immense and terrifying that we choose to throw ourselves into it hoping that one day we will run into the person that we want to be. Our lives are compiled of a finite number of moments that define the legacy we will eventually leave behind. In this compilation of moments there are many that lead us to ponder self destruction. What I have learned is that as we perpetually destroy ourselves we learn to take a step back and realize how broken we are. This brokenness is something that should be embraced because that is exactly what defines the essence of our being. As I sit here and write down my overflowing thoughts my lungs are stained and my heart is recovering, but my head sits firmly on my shoulders…it hasn’t been there for a while. • 3:41 am  •  27 April 2014  

I finished reading my words, I looked up and in that moment I felt something that I had never experienced before, exposed. For the first time my art wasn't just my escape—it became my reality. Since that day I haven't stopped writing, I haven't stopped drawing and I will never stop creating.

My head is still in the clouds, I'm just trying to keep my feet on the ground.

P. S.