This is how magic is done: by hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed.
I realized that I haven't painted in such a long time because I chose my sanity or peace of mind over creating.
When I paint something, I feel so exhausted afterwards, and I act really weird, sometimes I am not even me, and I see crazy things, and have the weirdest thoughts. Since my trips to mexico I have really been so calm, and I have slept every night since, I really enjoyed it, I have had no worries at all I have just been living a nice calm life. Dont get me wrong, painting is also a peaceful thing, but in a most bizarre way.
Last night I came to this conclusion, and thought what am I here for if not to paint, I see color in everything, when I listen to music I paint a picture in space, and everywhere I go I study nature to see what is done so effortlessly that I have to work so hard to achieve, and I thought I need to FACE my self.
Its a process of insanity and sleepless weeks, months at a time, weird visions, countless 'coincidences' and then the peaceful bit where its total seclusion of the mind, from everything that is not in harmony with your now. Thats the part that makes it worth it, to me, not so much the finished product because instantly comes this feeling of surfacing which is rather uncomfortable, and may be why I never seem to finish much;)
And so this cycle started last night.