Art has become my catharsis. A piece of my soul that you can freely touch.
For the artist, training our eyes to see and embody each of the simple moments is the aim of the creative life.
You keep asking if the work was good enough. Did it serve its aim? Did it even have an aim?
After struggling with an eating disorder for four years, Christie Begnell is now coming out with a book of her work that illustrates the realities of living with an ED.
“I mostly draw to tell people how I feel. And to make people understand what things can be like in the head of someone suffering with mental illness.”
We don’t only search for meaning in our work, but in our personal lives. We’re not interested in shallow relationships. We search for potential in every date we go on. Authenticity. We want someone who understands the heart of us.
Gone are the days that you can go home, shut your door, close your curtains and keep up your appearance as the neighbor nobody likes. Dirty laundry is aired, well, like dirty laundry. The underwear with the embarrassing brown streak is out there for the world to see and I promise, the world is watching.
This graf I see is the death of graf. It no longer moves. It is no longer moving. Stationary frescoes. Crippled trains. This graf stares back like the eyes of corpses in the catacombs dei cappuccini. For what is a parking garage, after all, but a mausoleum?
Your gut feeling is there for a reason.
When you talk about your heartbreak, people are falling in love with you, when you talk about your anxiety, people are finding solace in you, when you talk about your pain, people are finding a remedy for theirs and when you talk about being lost, people are finding themselves.