Roughness

I've had a rough week. 

A rough month

An even rougher year

And I could cry

In fact I am now

But I can't play the "woe is me" card for very long; a day tops

And then I start to get on my own nerves

You know why?

Because!

That's why

Just fucking because!

If you were meant to know you would

Time will eventually reveal

It always does

Even if only at the very end

Maybe that's the thrill

Of putting yourself in harms way

Like a wire crosser*

To live so close to the edge

Of the precipice

And find the joy in it

Find true happiness

That's the beauty of art

That's the beauty of dying 

I sense this so much in my life

Thankfully

Without having to do any dying

Maybe my love of all things art

Maybe my love of writing

Of music

Of visual art

Of how someone can take the extraordinary

And make it so fucking beautiful

Or in The case of Francis (previous blog)

Take something wretchedly ugly

And transform it into something

Magical

I have a theory that anxiety fuels art too

At least it does in my case

I write out of a need to release my anxiety

So maybe if I have no anxiety I wouldn't write

Hmmmmmmm

I don't honestly know

Now that's fodder for thought

I need to look into that deeper

*specifically thinking of that "The Walk" movie about Philippe Petit. Probably the hr documentary is better, but the movie was pretty good with only a few minute details changed/added.  

I love this quote I heard attributed to him. I realize it sounds crazy and maybe it is. But if you ever want to be truly noteworthy. Have a true legacy. Be a true hero. Be a true patron saint; then you have to put it all out on the line.

"To me it's so simple, that life should be lived on the edge of life. You have to exercise rebellion; to refuse to taper yourself to rules, to refuse your own success, to refuse to repeat yourself, to see every day, every year, every idea as a true challenge, and then you are going to live your life on a tightrope." - Philippe Petit