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Day 5: Failed Poems Project {contemplation}

I’ve talked with another artist friend about this project and he suggested that I look at Art Brut.  Although I have had training, I still feel lost in a world that seems to have no place for me.  So the question remains, why do I even bother?  Because at a certain point it comes down to the need, the desire to express what is inside.  I believe this is also the very thing that drives these outside artists to create regardless of the consequences and regardless of the opinions of others.

A cool outsider artist: Jean Debuffet

As much as I try to be a part of the art world, Champaign, IL is not the place to be a part of the art world.  It is a cell of its own, with only the understanding of its own existence.  That may seem harsh and that is the only view that I have, my own.  It is a safe existence with little consequence and little progress.  I have as much blame to bear as the rest of the art community.  When has my art challenged the community?  When has my art challenged myself?  When am I going to get past the idea that I have to fit into a set pattern and rules?     Yet, maybe I should be interested in just being a part of this local community.  How can I make this community better?  Maybe me seeking my answers can help others regardless of how it is received and even in making myself understand my own demons, make myself a more effective human being.  I really hope that I can become that better person.

On that topic, I must say that digging into the feelings that I have about my wife’s cancer has not been a very pleasant one.  I can’t remember ever crying about it, more often I felt like closing my eyes and swinging at everything that moved.  I accepted that we needed to fight the cancer with reckless abandon.  I don’t believe that I ever dealt with the fear and now I get flashbacks like the moment of reliving an accident and I realize that as I am working on the failed poems project I get to relive moments and moments that may have never happened, its so hard to tell.  Is this what I have been reduced to?  Searching for answers to problems I know we’ll never solve?  Do I have a debt I owe to myself, a debt I owe to my wife?  What will ever pay down this debt?  And who keeps the balance?  I have so much work to do, so little energy, and so much fear to deal with.

This seems like such a dark place and the darkness reaches into so many parts of my life.

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