|I remember when THIS is all I wanted to do.|
It was called this because I sorta chickened out a bit. I had called it 'reality slams right into my face' and then went and turned it into yet another anti-corporate rant, which I'm sure you're all very tired of.
Truth is, I was looking back on where I might have gone as an artist and I came to the conclusion "I have wasted all the artistic talents, promise, life I may have had," it's not you, it's me.
That Red Hedz painting there is indicatibe of the sort of BALLS OUT art I always wanted to create and somewhere along the way, cliche got in the way. I wonder if there's enough time for me to CORRECT the error. Is there a second wind in these old bones?
I'm not sure... man, what a waste.
DAY LATER UPDATE: afternoon revelation - I just remembered, walking back from somewhere, that last night, at 1 a.m. I awoke at the back end of a dream, a very surreal dream (aren't they always) about the Black Pegasus Clan. I remember now that I had 'promised myself' to confront these War Horses face-to-face in a future dream - that had been my plan.
There was a wild herd of (mostly) black horses who threatened our passage through their enclosure, their field, their territory. And they were penned inside a small estate. And it was (mostly) the black horses who thrust their minds at us, showing us how they were going to torture anyone of us who trespassed across their domain. T.h.e.y. projected images of their horse teeth biting huge chunks out of our flesh. But we carried on across their field, running to confront them, despite the mind-attack.