Tuesday, June 01, 2004

The Artist Within

When I was a kid I loved to draw. I would draw just about anything, just for the sheer joy of dragging my pencil across the paper and seeing something come to life. It could be Donald Duck, taken from one of my many storybooks, or perhaps E.T., from his appearance on the cover of People magazine. It just didn't matter, as long as I was able to create.

As I moved into my teenage years, dragons and sorcerers became a common theme in my sketch books, not to mention snakes, bugs, and knights in shining armor. I was a typical boy, living in a fantastic world as it formed before my very eyes. Still, it was more about the drawing than the drawings themselves... The evidence being the odd seashell or potted plant in my work.

Eventually, I became an adult (contrary to what some people may tell you) and the time I could devote to my drawing diminished. I still felt that inexplicable drive to "make something", but I could rarely finish anything before other duties called me away. And to make matters worse, on the occasions when I did have the time, I couldn't seem to call forth the talent and would become angry and frustrated. The satisfaction that I had once felt now seemed to be just around the corner but ever-elusive.

Since then, I have dabbled in this and that... I've done a fair amount of cartooning (though I look upon this as mere "doodling" in comparison to my earlier work), I've tried my hand at acting and playwriting (with moderate success), and I've had a book brewing around in my brain for about 7 years now. More recently, I've taken a growing interest in digital photography and digital editing. All in all, the creative force still exists in me, and it is continually trying to find a way to express itself.

And then came blogging.

I can't begin to explain how good I have felt since I started this silly little page! I can sit here for 20 minutes every few days, throw out a few random ideas or hot-headed rants, and I feel fulfilled! It's amazing! It's exactly like when I was a kid and I'd brush away the last few eraser bits from my paper, stand up, and look down at the picture that came from my hand. It's like this overwhelming sense of accomplishment, regardless of whether anybody else ever sees it or not.

So, forgive me if there's an occasional post that seems lame or pointless (like this one, perhaps). I truly enjoy providing entertainment for others but, in the end, it's all about me...

Hey! My Mom was right after all!
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