Sunday, June 26, 2011

~ My Spirit ~

The Organics of Creativity

The artist's life cannot be otherwise than full of conflicts, for two forces are at war within him [her]--on the one hand the common human longing for happiness, satisfaction and security in life, and on the other a ruthless passion for creation which may go so far as to override every personal desire...There are hardly any exceptions to the rule that a person must pay dearly for the divine gift of creative fire.[1]

I am one in the same. Jung gives good recipe to that which contributes to pure insomnia. How many hours have I wasted, withering, wondering...what was wrong.

I still struggle with the possibility that I am striving towards issues already thought of, written, and forgotten. With so little time to divulge myself artistically...academically and with the venerable vastness of my readings, new insights, I know or feel that I'm merely a guppy in the tiniest of global glass orbs. Swimming, 'round and 'round, thinking I'm getting somewhere simply because I'm moving...sensing something in the distance. I need to know that the glass can be broken, tap-by-tap, and that when I make my splash (headed for whatever firm foundation); it will not be to my end. Instead, some kind of revelation: sweet beginning. Someone slip me a file...that I might shave this shell, encasing my self. Word by word, my mind picks and roams...waiting for that telling contact, to that which has already been...thought of, previously written and, too soon forgotten.



[1] Modern Man in Search of a Soul, Jung, C. (1933), Harcourt, Inc., Orlando, FL.

pg. 169

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