So, this creativity thing…

…that I’m blessed with…

O.K., Now what? It’s not that I’m not grateful, but really, what?

It’s been reinforced by the people around me for the longest time and I won’t deny it’s true, but I don’t know what to make of it. I mean, if Aunt Thelonia thinks I should receive a “Tony” then it must be true.

The problem is this (“this” being the part that gives this stupid exercise a reason to exist at all) I have ended up nurturing a feeling that I should be “more” than I’ve already ended up. (whatever that is) And it, of course this does, from time to time, end up pissing me off considerably. Combine this with a naturally inflated ego and it can get hard to get through a day.

Not once have people in a local bar recognized me and offered a free round or old high school buddies looked me up to try and ingratiate themselves into my entourage. (heavy sigh…) I guess when you mystify this stuff, it makes it a lot easier to avoid accepting responsibility.

I guess I’m just growing past that “charmed life” mentality slower than many.

Does this make it sound like I hate the life I have? I don’t. I love my home and family etc., they are true sources of joy and inspiration. Truthfully, from a simple perspective of “comfort in my skin”, I’d have to say that I’m better than I’ve ever been.

I’m not an unhappy person. Just a little restless. And every now and again it’s just good to fuss a little.

I suppose I crave recognition, or is it celebrity? Nah, not celebrity. I figured out a while ago that I would be one of those whiny stars that bitched and moaned about people not leaving him alone and respecting my privacy, so it’s probably not celebrity. It’s the recognition of creative peers that’s cool. That, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, something I do will do something good for somebody else. Perhaps this sounds “lofty” or even naive’ but it’s as simple as something like this: I’ve been listening to the music of “artist X” for literally decades now. I know it intimately. When the radio plays the edited version of a song by that artist I become incensed. Anyway, the point is, that music. That body of work has become part of the backdrop of my life. If my life were a mural, somehow, that music would have to be visibly represented on the canvas or I couldn’t consider it complete. I can attach certain songs to certain times and places in my life. Specific incidents along the way would be somehow less if you took that music out of them.

I have a fantasy about meeting that person(“artist X”) one day and simply thanking them for going through it all with me, somehow at some level. (of course, I’m able to present it much cooler than that and I’m not deemed any kind of stalker or anything. And actually, we hit it off and I end up creating this amazing music with this person and…but I digress.)

Now…to know that something you created or helped create had become a part of someone else’s life and made it a more livable place to be… or maybe that it helped someone cry when they really needed to cry…or maybe it just drove home the idea that no matter what, we’re never really alone… Not ever. Even though we might not like each other that much, or even scare each other to death. That it might help someone make it from Monday to Tuesday… or from Thursday to Friday…or maybe the drive home just a little better…hmm…

I’m no great lover of people, but that my friends…that’s sublime.

Hey, maybe I should write about that…or make a video… or a record a song… a poem, yeah, a poem. That’ s a great idea. I wonder if…

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~ by trendof1 on March 4, 2010.

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