I'm back.
To say the past few months have been hell may be an understatement. A lot of things occurred in my personal life that sunk me into a depressive state. I'm feeling better now, if still healing.
A family member also commented on my blog that it's visual design was immature and outdated. I hold their opinion highly, as they've worked in web design for the majority of their life. I know that's the point of neocities but I can't deny that the comment got to me. I still want to be an artist people can take seriously. If I can't have a 'serious' blog, am I worth my salt as an artist?
I was reluctant to come back. Wondered if I should start up this blog on a 'proper' website. Fall in line as a 'proper' writer (despite still having only had one publication under my belt). Despite it hurting me, I still long to be seen as a serious creative.
But in doing so, don't I deny myself fun? These blogs aren't really high art. Mostly ramblings. Is the reason for my writer's block that I deny myself the fun part of making art, and long for yet fear the pressures of being a 'real' artist.
But a real artist, in that view, isn't actually an artist. It's a person that's successful at capitalism. A product-maker. Of course, it's not inherently wrong to want to make something successful and financially profit off the art you make. But art isn't product.
It's the soul's expression. And you can't truly monetise a soul.
I think my issue, the thing that blocks me, is denying myself fun. Denying myself the ability to let my hair down and just enjoy the act for what it is. Craft, not work. Of course there is struggle in art, to call a piece a work in that way is apt. But it's one I'll do for the rest of my life. It's craft. Just like myself.
To call it craft is to acknowledge fault. To acknowledge flaws. But also to acknowledge fun, joy, learning and growth.
Lately I've been curious about paganism. In my local area, there's been a wiccan shop. Been there for years. A very fond memory I have was, as a child, going there and being offered Mulled wine. It was near Christmas (or the Yule Sabbat) and I hadn't ever tried it before.
My dad gave me permission to try it (it was only a small paper cup too) and I was instantly met with a soul-warming drink. One that smelt and tasted divine. It would take me many years to actually become a wine drinker, but mulled wine has always remained a favourite ever since that day. And I'm still not sure how they made theirs taste so...magical!
But it would take me years to rekindle my curiosity about Paganism. I always worried by delving into it, I'd be seen as mad. I think that's still a valid fear, but aspects of it always crept into my life. The ways in which I felt so calmed in nature. The ways water made me feel refreshed. And the ways random tarot readings just always felt too on the nose.
Aside from the tangent, the reason I have become interested in Paganism is that I'm curious about spirituality. That research, combined with returning to Julia Cameron's Artist Way, is hopefully leading me onto the right path.
I think my soul has been starved. And perhaps leaning into spirituality of some kind is me perhaps healing that wound. Finding ways to infuse spirituality into my artistic process. Because I still believe there's something transcendent about art.
That one can preserve a part of their soul in a painting, song, photograph, book and such. That I can read a book from hundreds of years ago and connect to the thoughts of someone much, much different to me.
I want to believe there's magic in that. And I want to believe I'm capable of that magic too.
So if I'm going to be capable of that magic, I need to start by doing the magic. Working on the craft. And facing myself as I am. Flawed, healing, damaged, growing.