I’m a person who loves change. It may be part of my desire to paint or play music, since activities like that have a forward moving energy that starts with an idea, and proceeds to a completion of sorts, and I love that feeling of being caught up in something so full of life that it creates its own excitement in the process. It’s like a parallel universe, or a world within this world, possibly more mental than real, and yet out of the process comes something new and unique to both worlds; something changed.
The mystery for me is why I am so compelled to get involved in these projects, why I play the violin or guitar almost every day, when no one else can hear me, or start a painting with no reward whatsoever, other than to once again experience the excitement of watching something come to life? Why am I not an accountant, or a truck driver, or a psychologist? I have the degree, I love people, and I enjoy helping out any way I can, but I constantly return to my solitary world to pursue a work of art (if I can be so pretentious), or the sound of my own music. I think the answer lies in the fact that whenever I do that, I become comfortable and content to be alone and yet aware of being part of the much larger world around me, as if what I’m doing is some sort of contribution to it. I’m here, I’m alive, I’m part of it, but if I dwell too long on these thoughts, I get caught in the trap of doubting myself, and thinking I should pack away my instruments, forget about painting, and find a job. That would be a change, but maybe not one that I would find half as satisfying as what I might do today.