This past week has been an absolute delight. I've never been happier sitting in my room with a sketchbook , amid scores of brushes and tubes of paint. Never mind that my room smells of soy-based solvents and drying paint. I even snuck in a couple nights worth of wonderful ... sweet, sweet slumber. Never mind that there is a world of work waiting for me on the other side of this week. I made a conscious decision to shut down and turn off the world .. come what may. The results so far have been wonderful.
Anybody that makes something out of nothing will revel in the spontaenous imagery that floods a clear, illuminated mind. It's as simple as turning the light on. Simple never meant easy though. I've regurgitated more creativity in the past 5 days than I have in all my years collectively. I suppose that it was just there waiting... I just wasnt quite there.
I can't imagine how or why I'd go anywhere without my sketchbook. Thats probably why I havent been able to hold on to images and ideas. Frusciante explained it well when he talked about Hendrix almost making his guitar a part of his being. Somehow that just spurns the creative juices to spill right out of your soul. Most of what I did within this week probably wont ever be seen by anybody but me simply because its right out of my heart and mind and intensely personal. Still, its a treasure trove to me. It's almost like spring cleaning your psyche to make room for more.
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