A new old in an old new

My current goal to move from mediocrity to excellence is facing almost insurmountable opposition. The world wants me to remain blunt and unimaginative so that I can fit snuggly into the moulds that society provides me with.  If I start to imagine, I hope, then I question, then I start to create. In creating, I have to deconstruct reality and reshape my belief.
So when I post on this blog, I try to peel off the hardening crusts of my mould. I have barely made any progress. I often paste my fears back onto the scratches I have made. I fall back in line. I go back to class. I look for a tried and tested method. 
But when I get comfortable, the Angel returns to ask why I am not trying. 'You have so much rhythm!' The Angel says. Or that is me thinking again.
Now, I start over. I want to become an artist.  I was always an artist. My creations are not paintings. They are my voice, contorted by struggles, failures and histories.  A voice adorned with joys, hope and possibility. I dream again this week that I will exhibit my thoughts to a world that does not really care, but that is fascinated and challenged by the new. A new that is only new because it is told by a different voice. A new that is so old that it sounds new.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,