The creative life is a peculiar one. People need artists to color the palette of life and brush away the grays. To oppose conformity and strike down conventions. To live vicariously in danger against the backdrop of sterility and comfort.
So why do the same folks who require our services chide the process? Does it stem from frustration in their own failure to bravely accept humanity? Is it fear of introspection and crossing boundaries? Falling from on high to the depths of failure? Change?
Creativity is freedom. Traveling beyond the known. Digging beneath the layers. Making love to discomfort. Opening new wounds. Risking all to look into the face of God.
The struggle is perilous, but more so from within the soul as opposed to other’s perceptions. Fighting the urges to follow. Learning what truly exists deep inside. Capturing the reptilian mind. Controlling it.
Does what we do make us weird? Most likely. But you need us to do this, as much as we must do it.