I've been lacking in inspiration and experiencing self-doubt, most likely triggered via attending Helsingin Kuvataidelukio. I enjoy the school though, so that must count for something.
Winter's coming, and I'm attempting to discover new avenues for inspiration. Films seem to be a big thing for me at the moment. Reading too, I suppose. My imagination hasn't done anything for me recently, and unless I decide to act on the thing that has been, and currently is, plaguing my mind (to make it more specific, it's a person), it'll stay the same way for as long as it takes to get rid of it (or him).
Edvard Munch once said: "They will not get it into their heads that these paintings were created in all seriousness and in suffering, that they are the products of sleepless nights, that they have cost me blood and weakened my nerves."
Somehow I feel that he's right in implying that misery and suffering brings out the best in us creatively, despite currently lacking in creativity myself.
How depressing.










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