And so… mysteries of the world

I have been in this really bad mood lately. For weeks now. It has nothing to do with other people or myself even. I think it’s just something else. Even talking about this dampens my mood.

I think I lost motivation. I mean it was lost for a while. I’m getting it back. I was posing too many questions about the importance of things. Why is art important? Why is science important? What is important? Is there anything? The answer to that is still absent.

But when I think about it again… Possibly nothing is globally important. Or universally. Things only have a personal importance to each individual. Art is important to ME because it allows me to express my feelings and ideas visually. Science is important to ME because it helps me pose more questions about the space-time I am a part of. It all is about reality. About analysing the world. Art explores concepts in society and science explores more fundamental mysteries of what are we made of. Both of these are down to earth missions. I think so. However different they are.

Dreamlike realities at nighttime.

Inspiration

I understand. The purpose of life. That long debated purpose and reason and all the questions. Life doesn’t stand. And we shouldn’t care or worry about life. It flows itself. People have influence. But they can’t stop it. So they shouldn’t try.

I want to kill the logic inside me. The instinct. The common sense. To live my fantasy.

Sounds around me. City around me. Inspiration.

Where have I been? Now I see it. I want to create. To be influenced by what I adore. By these little things. I feel like I’m on drugs.

My favourites are film and poetry. And painting. And drawing. You can express such an amplitude of emotions. It makes it art. The flow of feelings. Becoming material.

I need to get my camera back. I want to film. For now I will buy some pastels and paper. And books.

So confusing

World is confusing. It takes a long time to truly understand just how confusing and dynamic it is. We are born, we live and then we are reborn. Reborn again and again, when we realize some truths or reach some special stage in our creative life. I don’t mean reborn literally. No, we just feel like we have changed. And people change. They grow. Like trees, like cities.

Yesterday I watched this culture program which explored avant-garde, culture today and the relationship between an artist and a city. It was an interview with Jonas Mekas, a Lithuanian poet and filmmaker who lives and works in New York. He said that the world changes, that avant-garde will always exist, because there will always be someone or something standing in the front. Like modern technologies or internet which open all the windows and doors for us to share our creativeness. He believes that commercialism and superficial values can’t possibly win over and that mankind will always strain to be in front. From big bang until now time and humanity have moved forward. This is the way life goes. Forward. And we should be grateful to death – it keeps the world dynamic.

I completely agree with his opinion. Humanity is the engine, and we must keep the world dynamic. The only way to do this is to rebel, oppose the mass culture and the mainstream commercial values. That is avant-garde – art/political movements that change our Weltanschauung.

I think this is more or less everything I wanted to say today.

How I love such Sundays

I haven’t felt so good for a long time. Everything around me seems magical. Memories are flooding my head, I can see blue sky through my window and I am free to do anything I like.

I have about one Sunday like that in every couple of months. Why can’t everyday be like that? So peaceful, so beautiful. What makes a good day so damn good? The answer is that such days have one thing incommon – loads of sunshine.

I should probably move to live to a sunnier place because UK is not famous for great weather.

I feel so inspired. I haven’t felt like this for a whole year. I’d love to do something creative. But artistic stuff and me… well they just don’t go together. Every time I paint something I must throw it away because I hate it. Even if other people really like it.

I will need to buy some paint and maybe try again. I had some ideas in my head. All the inspiration piled up during the year and I want to let it out. Usually I let out my creativity through writing. I have so many diaries everywhere.

Now I feel an urge to tidy up. My floor is covered in clothes, papers, cds and books. I want to give everything to charity and live in an empty room. All the stuff around me makes me confused. I want a white room, with white furniture and minimal decorations. I want this peacefulness to continue. I also want to hear sea roaring. It is so pretty outside right now.