i worry sometimes that i'm not creative enough, that i don't push things far enough, that i'm really not all that good at things. it's fine when you're looking at what you just accomplished and see the worth in it, but when you put a price to what you make it all falls apart. i worry about that.
i have a love/hate relationship with my real life job. i like the majority of my clients, i like learning new things about the human body and the things we put on it. i don't even really mind doing the things i do. but a major part of me feels like a failure. that this job has eaten up my chances at being an "artist". well, for what it's worth on paper; that label, "artist".
there's good and bad about the internet and the things other people do. you come across and see what people all over the world are creating, but it makes what you do feel small, boring in it's relative safety.
for the most part, i'm in a bubble. i can see out but i don't interact with what i see. sometimes i feel so distant from art school, and i miss that interaction between one artist and another. it's the water and food that feeds growth. i've become stagnant. i yearn to grow but have trouble finding the path into the light.
i feel like i need to jump into an unkown, to quite my job at the spa and force myself to live my art, to force feed it, to give it what it needs to grow. but i'm complacent, comfortable in my half-living. what if that decision is a horrible one, a crippling one? i say i like change, but i don't. i hate to change too quickly, too drastically. i hate this about myself.