I need to get laid.

It's a part of the process.

Physical art, being the stuff that you look at, is pretty easy to reflect upon. When you're done painting a giant squid, you can sit back, pop open a beer and really take in the squid from every angle. You can observe every intricate detail and subtle brush stroke and you can say, "Wow, look at that fucking squid. My squid. I made that squid and it is beautiful." It's an important thing to do when you complete something that you've poured that much emotion and time into. Reflect. It's something every artist should do.

Performing arts, however, are a bit more difficult to reflect on. Sure, you can watch your performance, reenact your dance recital, or listen to your own music... but can you really relive that moment? When you ARE your medium, it gets pretty tough to take yourself in from all angles. It's strange that when I act, afterwards I'm always completely drained. So much goes into doing something so simple as pretending to be someone else to tell a story that it's baffling. So naturally, taking in everything that you just did and processing that information can be extremely taxing. The rewards for doing so, however, are crucial to expanding as a human being as well as an artist. Taking a moment after your performance and quietly absorbing all of the joy, the fear, the frantic mental processes, and the knowledge that you're doing something that you feel extremely passionate about, will open entirely new worlds of opportunity for you.

It's a part of the process.

1/29/12

Once again I find myself completely overwhelmed by my expectations of other people, and completely underwhelmed by what I actually discover to be true. I feel like I'm making a real effort to meet people, but in all actuality, I'm not. I go out with my friends and then keep with my friends all night. Whenever I get a look from someone that says anything along the lines of "Hey, judging by the way you present yourself, I'd say that getting to know you wouldn't make me want to shove a fork down my throat," I immediately take to staring that person down in the worst possible way. Other people are too hard to wrap my head around. My friends are all fucking amazing, and I've known most of them for over five years, so I already know what makes them tick. I know which jokes to crack around which people and what to say to someone who's feeling like utter shit to make them smile and think to themselves, "Hmm, this isn't so bad after all." I know these things. I've had experience with these things. So when I meet new people my brain goes, "Uhhhh… well, what do we do now?" I honestly feel like the will and know-how to learn the intricacies of other humans' minds have all but slipped through my fingers. And then when, by some act of divinity, I DO get to know new people, my mind forces me into some sort of connect-the-dots mode in which I find all of the things we have in common, and then make all of those things my life for a while. I wish for once I could just pick something up, look at it, feel it, appreciate it for what it is, and then put it back down. I obsess. It's what I do. Meh.