"Am I a psychic artist or an artistic psychic?"
This is a question I have asked, both publicly and privately, for years. There are four possible answers and at one time or another I have identified with all four -- artist, psychic, both, neither. But the engine that runs my train often times wants to kick the caboose off the track and chase a greyhound bus through the wilderness. I get bored after awhile being "just a psychic" and, on top of that, I have a tendency to either want to go flat out . . . or park.
Not content to do the tried and true and keep a recognizable AND CONSISTENT "brand", I find that, as my emotions go, so too my commitment to work. But the best laid plans, for me anyway, are also subject to a third wild card: Depression.
Many times I rebel and feel confined by having to adhere to a certain "style of behavior". There is no denying that my style as a psychic is not for everybody and many people do not care for me having porn star friends or being half jock, half hellion and I can understand, and appreciate, this attitude.
Since my hair has slid from my scalp into my ears and nose, I can't cut my hair or punk it out or dye it blonde so I have to resort to other means to stir things up . . . I bring this up because I feel as if there must be others who go trough similar dilemmas. If all things were equal and it were truly left up to me, I believe I would be a "psychic artist" first and foremost. This means I would identify with art more than metaphysics, would write novels instead of how-to manuals on psychic development, would paint rather than predict.
As I was telling Jost earlier, my two extremes are: business person and artist. The competitive me is happiest in business (or sports), the contemplative me happiest in creation. As a result, I am truly happy in either role but I am not content to stay in just one.
On the psychological and logistical continuum of my life, "psychic" is, quite literally, the "happy medium". It allows me to lead the life of an artist and still have some money as well. The contemplative piece works as a psychic; the competitive piece, though, not so much.
Over the years I have talked a lot about my struggles with sadness and depression, mainly in relationship to the death of my daughter but that is not the only reason. I have been advised to shut up about it, too, and not talk about it -- to say nothing so as not to tarnish my "reputation" as one who "knows things", but part of the reason I DO know things is because I have gone down those dark hallways and lived to tell the tale.
Without my "stain", there is no motivation to find the soap. Without my darkness, I would not swim so hard seeking the light.
For others who struggle with the hows and whys of existence, who are not willing (or able) to accept standard answers to critical questions, I feel you and understand and embrace your struggle. I wish some days that I could provide the rock solid always on pointe "thang" people want me to be.
But, so far, I have not found that answer. I have found others, ones I think, in many ways, far more important. But the riddle of consistency, I just cannot solve.
I seek so many things but mainly I seek anwers about myself; I cannot stop searching for those anwers and while I continue searching there will be days, or weeks, when I simply cannot focus on being "The Rock n Roll Psychic" and during those times I will drift away, once more, and will likely, as I do far too often, try to break the foundation I have built in my "career" so as not to have it as a temptation to run back to.
That, I think, is "the truth" -- my "career" becomes a distraction, at times, from looking within. Kill the career and fewer people will call me and I will have more time to sit and "think". Understandable, but only in a twisted, parallel universe would someone act upon it. Still, one only looks if something is missing. True?
For me, there is still a "piece" missing.
Depression is not a fun ride. I deal with it as well as I can, or know how . . . and so -- the story goes.
This is a question I have asked, both publicly and privately, for years. There are four possible answers and at one time or another I have identified with all four -- artist, psychic, both, neither. But the engine that runs my train often times wants to kick the caboose off the track and chase a greyhound bus through the wilderness. I get bored after awhile being "just a psychic" and, on top of that, I have a tendency to either want to go flat out . . . or park.
Not content to do the tried and true and keep a recognizable AND CONSISTENT "brand", I find that, as my emotions go, so too my commitment to work. But the best laid plans, for me anyway, are also subject to a third wild card: Depression.
Many times I rebel and feel confined by having to adhere to a certain "style of behavior". There is no denying that my style as a psychic is not for everybody and many people do not care for me having porn star friends or being half jock, half hellion and I can understand, and appreciate, this attitude.
Since my hair has slid from my scalp into my ears and nose, I can't cut my hair or punk it out or dye it blonde so I have to resort to other means to stir things up . . . I bring this up because I feel as if there must be others who go trough similar dilemmas. If all things were equal and it were truly left up to me, I believe I would be a "psychic artist" first and foremost. This means I would identify with art more than metaphysics, would write novels instead of how-to manuals on psychic development, would paint rather than predict.
As I was telling Jost earlier, my two extremes are: business person and artist. The competitive me is happiest in business (or sports), the contemplative me happiest in creation. As a result, I am truly happy in either role but I am not content to stay in just one.
On the psychological and logistical continuum of my life, "psychic" is, quite literally, the "happy medium". It allows me to lead the life of an artist and still have some money as well. The contemplative piece works as a psychic; the competitive piece, though, not so much.
Over the years I have talked a lot about my struggles with sadness and depression, mainly in relationship to the death of my daughter but that is not the only reason. I have been advised to shut up about it, too, and not talk about it -- to say nothing so as not to tarnish my "reputation" as one who "knows things", but part of the reason I DO know things is because I have gone down those dark hallways and lived to tell the tale.
Without my "stain", there is no motivation to find the soap. Without my darkness, I would not swim so hard seeking the light.
For others who struggle with the hows and whys of existence, who are not willing (or able) to accept standard answers to critical questions, I feel you and understand and embrace your struggle. I wish some days that I could provide the rock solid always on pointe "thang" people want me to be.
But, so far, I have not found that answer. I have found others, ones I think, in many ways, far more important. But the riddle of consistency, I just cannot solve.
I seek so many things but mainly I seek anwers about myself; I cannot stop searching for those anwers and while I continue searching there will be days, or weeks, when I simply cannot focus on being "The Rock n Roll Psychic" and during those times I will drift away, once more, and will likely, as I do far too often, try to break the foundation I have built in my "career" so as not to have it as a temptation to run back to.
That, I think, is "the truth" -- my "career" becomes a distraction, at times, from looking within. Kill the career and fewer people will call me and I will have more time to sit and "think". Understandable, but only in a twisted, parallel universe would someone act upon it. Still, one only looks if something is missing. True?
For me, there is still a "piece" missing.
Depression is not a fun ride. I deal with it as well as I can, or know how . . . and so -- the story goes.
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