Sunday, July 27, 2014

A Beautiful Lie

Something I fight with, on an almost daily basis, an inner struggle with outward effects. The thought, the idea, the meaning of having passion.

People can be passionate about damn near anything. Faith, politics, music, photographs, you name it, there is someone who has thrown themselves into that 100%. For better, or for worse, they are doing something meaningful.

Even if it is something you are not profiting off of. The starving artist, hoping to sell a painting at an art walk.

The musician who records a song, and just hopes some people will like it enough to buy an album, a shirt, pay to see them play.

Then, there is me. There are things I like, things I enjoy, things I love. But, I can't put my finger on something I'm passionate about.

I tend to blame it on the time in life leading up to now, but, there are a handful of reasons behind it, none of them easy to explain, and even hard to understand at times. 

I've done things. Written music, recorded music. Played music for others. Created pieces of photoshop "art" for lack of better term, for others, to aid in their passions.

I've stepped in the ring, behind the camera, behind merch tables. That would be the closest thing to attach passion to. Whether it was touring the country, or just driving out 15 minutes to man a table, or whatever it may be.

But, even with that, it is so few, and far between, it's hard to truly enjoy it at the most.

Which is issue #2 for me, living in the moment, or, enjoying it, without having it dampened by something in the past, or knowing it'll be ending in an hour, or whatever it may be.

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