And so I rip my heart out and eat it...

Not entirely sure what is going on with my work, but I made a rather odd painting of a woman eating her heart. Disturbing. Thus, I am faily certain I might be depressed. I feel lost in my own head. I feel a creeping feeling going through me telling me I am not good enough at the things I am doing, telling me I need help, telling me I am too lost to function. So what now?

Well, it has actually got me producing more art, so maybe it is not that bad a thing after-all? There is definitely a beneficial side to being lost in your own head. It is not surprising considering I am on a new course, in my first year, attempting to find my path. And after a lovely chat with a lecturer about why she does art, why she decided to stay in this field and how she lives, I feel quite a bit better. Asuggested reading list by her with a book whose title starts with, "Why artists are poor..." might not be ever so encouraging in pursuing a bohemian life, yet at least it is realistic.

Having discovered the musical called 'Rent' makes me appreciate life more. Their song La Vie Boheme, which is a toast to the life of a poor artist, in particular. This compilation of some parts of the song, where they list everything that this bohemian life compromises of is inspirational, or very sadening, not really too sure which:

To days of inspiration,

Playing hookey, making something

Out of nothing, the need

To express-

To communicate,

To going against the grain,

Going insane,

Going mad

To loving tension, no pension

To more than one dimension,

To starving for attention,

Hating convention, hating pretension,

Not to mention of course,

Hating dear old mom and dad

To riding your bike

Midday past the three piece suits-

To fruits- To no absolutes-

To Absolut- To choice-

To the Village Voice-

To any passing fad

To being an us- For once-

Instead of a them-

Wine and beer!

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries

To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese

To leather, to dildos, To curry Vindaloo

To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion,

Creation, Vacation

Mucho masturbation

Compassion, to fashion, to passion

When it's new

To Sontag

To Sondheim

To anything taboo

Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage

Lenny Bruce

Langston Hughes

To the stage!

To Uta

To Buddha

Pablo Neruda, too

Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow

To blow off Auntie Em

La Vie Boheme

Sisters?

Brothers!

Bisexuals, trisexuals, Homo Sapiens,

Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men,

Pee Wee Herman

German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein

Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa

Carmina Burana

To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy

Vaclav Havel- The Sex Pistols, 8BC

To no shame- Never playing the fame game

To marijuana

To sodomy

It's between God and me

To S & M

La Vie Boheme!

Either way it is interesting. It made me realise that I am most probably already living the bohemian life. Without the AIDS, which in itself is encouraging. My life span expectancy is not 10 years, or 20 with HAART medication. I have the full 80 or so years to live, hopefully. I might be struggling on HOW to live my life, at least I am not struggling TO live. It could all be a lot worse.