ScribblePOP 3.0

There used to be a time, in the recent past, where I breathed the urge to make. I used to wake up with the ambition to create something that is, at its core, only conceived with the purpose of satisfying myself. The process that then took place would be my attempt to merge myself with the rest of the world. This was how shooting a film was to me, this was how making a wooden sculpture was to me, this was how banging madly on the piano to my own set of scale progressions was to me.

Over the course of the past year, the urge waned. It’s still there, somewhere, dormant in my head. The need is still present – but the two aren’t the same. The urge is a necessity that resulted in happiness. Without it, I feel malnourished and really isolated from the world around me.

I regret to end this long overdue blog on a melancholy note – but see it as a hopeful one as well, as it appears to promise remedial measures. I just have to find the spirit to realize these measures. Can I do it?