WARNING: AUTOMATIC WRITING AHEAD
Life is too short and I haven't got enough time yet to do all I wanted to do, that I have forgotten about, but still feel like I have missed out until now, and why would I even bother when I am already two generations behind and can't even type without looking at my keyboard and I still draw with regular pencils, I am better off making ready for the real me for when it comes the world will shake, so I should really be careful to have everything set up and not miss my momentum when it comes, and make sure I am on point and to the point, so I feel justified and less horrified at my vision in the mirror, so in fact I would rather wait a bit more and do nothing for now for it was a mistake in the first place to even consider myself worthy of the gift I wasted, I am surely better off without me, I should stay still for a while more, I am sure there was a wall at my back I should be able to reach at last and feel compelled and forced to act upon my proximus-comicus-cosmos.
What can you not do to procrastinate again? I mean, I don't know about you, I can't see your tricks from here, but I bet you have a few, like me.
I have got to understand, for instance, that this perfectionist of mine I have got inside is not in fact the creative in me, he is the procrastinator and beyond, the destroyer, the hidden glove of death, the fake dreamer , the cream that kills the dream. Like mass censorship in a fake democracy operating with the glitter hand of stardom brushing your hair to one side only.
My perfectionist is like a lion of marble, a giant knee of iron clutched to my spin and holding me chin down to the gravels of detail and asphyxia. I, marooned without a master, made one out but out of tales and sacks of hear-shots. I serve a puppet of quick drying plaster poured in a robe of crooked beauty.
And I walked every corridors in this lonely palace, I know now every corner of it, every impasse, all its traps and I have dwelt in every oubliette I could ever imagine. I have made a nightmare of my own self and body and mind, I have played the game so many many times. Could it be time now to shake the board and make a big fire with it? Again? Yes, again. For a battle is never won once, but all over again at every moment until the sun expires and one becomes a butterfly.
All I want to say is live your life, your real one, not the one you think is worth living. What you think worthy is already a rotten corpse, the breath we took a while ago means nothing for the lungs, for what if the lungs decided to hold onto this breath because it was worthwhile. Good luck with that. Just don't try and hold on to anything, may things grow, bloom and die and fade away like a magnificent day on a yet undiscovered planet.
So here I am. I have postponed the writing of my business plan for the Back to Work scheme for far too long. But, enough is enough, life said to me, in its own way. Now I take on the putting together of this machiavelic scheme to a properly nerdy level. I think I can even feel what I am doing. Soon, when my project is accepted, I will be officially registered as self-employed freelance illustrator with the back-up of social welfare for another two years. Wish me luck!
To fill a form, to apply for support, to contact the man, to approach the woman, in other words to kill a dragon at the press of a button, can seem like a daunting task. But think about it: is this pity I have on myself enough to make me cherish my regrets to the end of me? Or am I just going to miss the wrong bus that would have taken me to a ravine? Just pick a door, any door, you have the key to all doors, but the key works only once. Once that door is passed find the other key for another couple of doors awaits you. You can never go back, but you can always go forward. You have got all the time you want to go from one door to the next. But other people are waiting for you on the other side: don't let them think their are alone, they need you. Maybe they will be pushing the door your way. That's called providence, or logarithms (I'll have to check again...).
Anyway, simply remember: You can never go back, but you can always go forward.
Thank you so much to anyone who took the time and liberty to follow along on this improvised ramble. And remember: all your comments are always very welcome. Let's start a conversation if you like.
I promise next week Trail of Colour will look more like a traditional blog post... Teaser: wet books on the way!