I Require and Refuse Myself

July 31, 2010 at 9:16 am (General, Life)

Do you know how in the wee hours of the night, the creative part of the brain can get more easily fired up and focused? Have you ever had that? I’m getting an overload of it right now. It might be that I’m super high on wine-gums, and the fact that I’m listening to The Downward Spiral really loudly right now. It’s probably both.

I’ve been asked a lot recently about why I haven’t been animating. To tell you the truth, I just don’t have a specific, straight answer. I’ve been spending most of my artistic time in my sketchbook, learning how to draw people, or in a notebook, writing a story. Flash just hasn’t been very tempting. Not at all, in fact.
Sometimes I worry that I’ll lose any skill I had when it comes to animation. In a way, art keeps the leak at bay, but studying movement and trying it (practicing) is the best way to go. I think finding someone who’s good at it would be the best first step, and learning from them would be the second.

Let’s end that mild note right there.
——————————–
Today I went to the funeral of a dear friend. It’s strange how your mind attaches itself to things. You lose your mp3 player, and you keep thinking you have it, but realize it’s gone. You lose a friend, and it never really hits you that they’re dead. That’s how I feel. She died almost four days ago, and I still think that she’s sitting in her bedroom next door with a morphine pump, smiling through her shrunken gaze. I keep thinking that the kindest person I’ve ever known will answer the phone when I call. I keep forgetting that I’ll never see that smile again.

It’s the end of an era. Things change, but even though I know full well I’ll never see her again, my mind is unable to wrap itself around and absorb the fact. I never even cried until I actually saw the coffin being wheeled out in front of me. I never actually realized how painful letting someone go is untill I saw the family putting roses on the casket in the back of a hearse.

I always have desensitized myself to death, I say “Oh well, everyone has to go through it, why is it such a big deal?” It’s always a shock when someone close goes. When I looked around the room at the funeral, I could only think: will there be this many people at my funeral? Will people be as dressed up? Will there be this kind of music? Will there be music? Will I even get a funeral, let alone propper burial? Will I ask to be cremated? Will I rot? How long do I have? How long will people care for? Will I be forgotten?

All are really daunting questions. It just makes me think that it doesn’t matter how many days/weeks/months/years you have, but it matters how you live them. It’s better to actually LIVE then to be afraid to die. This is why I do crazy things. If I cover my hand in sanitizer and light it on fire, I do it for the experience, not just to say I did. If I jump out of a tree into another, same thing applies. It’s the life in your years, not the years in your life. If people grieve for you when you’re dead, it only means you had a positive enough effect on their lives to make them mourn.

I guess life is just a learning experience. Experience to be used in what? I can’t say I know.

-Alex

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