Lately I have been struggling with my sense of direction-
And this post helped me get my bearings.
I hope it does a little bit of the same for you.
Each one of us must make his own path through life. There are no self-help manuals, no formulas, no easy answers. The right road for one is the wrong road for another…The journey of life is not paved in blacktop; it is not brightly lit”, and it has no road signs. It is a rocky path through the wilderness. ”
If you have stumbled on this blog–
or if you are someone who has decided to
subscribe to it–
I want you to tell you how happy I am that you have decided
The reason I write here is to encourage myself–
inspire myself–support myself– and otherwise
keep myself dedicated to my art practice
and hopefully–maybe- do the same for you.
I have nothing in particular to offer you
nothing to teach you–
nothing to sell you
nothing to give away–
other than–my own commitment to keep going–
along this unpaved and often rained out road.
Here I am in the middle of blogland
with my dream hanging out
for all to see-
encouraging myself to be fearless.
And hoping you will be fearless too.
And even if my words fall into
the empty void–
I will keep going.
I am taking the hard road.
The rocky and unpaved path.
The road less travelled.
I may be too weak, too introverted,
too obsessive too perfectionistic,
too fearful, too shy, too melancholy–
I may even be delusional–
I am not young and fresh and new at any of this.
I have gone unrecognized and undiscovered
for so long that many might think I should give up.
But I don’t.
I am compelled to continue–
despite waves of despair and hopelessness–
Despite the choking fingers of self doubt-
Despite the pain of being ignored–
I do not quit because what I do–
is what I love.
The journey of imagination is what
feeds me and delights me and challenges me.
And I keep going with the hope that
dedication and discipline and fierce devotion–
will allow me to one day create
a work of art that inspires and astonishes
and heals and challenges and transforms
and all those other things
that art can do.
I am writing a play right now–
with the determination
to dig in deep
to live in the difficulty–
to roam and fall into the hollows–
to cope with the endless mud of the work
to write and write and stay writing
without recognition and reward.
To look hopelessness and fear
square in the eye–
And to persevere without compliments or
rave reviews or agents jumping to represent me.
To ignore the defeatist messages I send myself.
And to press on. Regardless.
This is my road.
This is my home.
I have no other place to go