At the risk of sounding overly sappy, I live for passion. I live for those moments where you just feel. Where nothing on the outside matters, purely because inside is so brimming with potential and prospect for what is to immediately come or what is currently taking place, so much so that you sometimes get lost in the heat of it all and come shakily back down to where you originally stood, shivering at the ghost of the pure emotion that just rushed through you, and craving it’s power again.
I’m currently in a limbo between things that make me feel. Whether it’s a song, a person, a memory, a night, – whatever it is. That tingly kind of ‘I know I shouldn’t be so excited but this feels so damn good and I am twenty-two so why the fuck not just let myself FEEL it’ kind of buzz is what makes life worthwhile. I’m not saying I feel nothing at other times, or in between buzzes, but there’s an excitement that your heart and soul reserve for only certain, special things – things I don’t want to ruin by listing here and risking their frivolity for you – and that’s what keeps me going.
The thing with art is that it lets you know that feeling, no matter how good or bad or unexplained, is always real and justified. Through art, we see people’s truths. People can express their BUZZES through a medium which is more widely accepted than an excited non-sensical text message trying to describe exactly how much something means to you;
‘omggggggggg have you HEARD Mumford& Sons new song omg omg omgaeohaeja akejrttttagndflgkadkfajrgejka LOVE’
It shows humankind for what we really are, and helps us to understand that we are all as bare and naked and lost as each other, following only the things that makes us feel most strongly as we move ceaslessly forward.
That it is possible for us to look at or be with another and feel such justification and purpose is enough sometimes to keep me going, knowing that truth is possible…..that feeling is real…we just need to give it a chance and let it take shape. The fact that I have yet to experience this is only a minor deterrent. I have come close, very close – close enough to appreciate it, and recognise the potential. Close enough to actually feel some of that ever- elusive buzz. In a way I suppose you could say that I have experienced the best of it. The lead-up. The potential. The uncertainty. The risk.
“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter;
therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees,thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!”
– John Keats
It will happen again…someday. Art dilutes the condensed, uncontrollable and overpowering feelings that life sometimes shoves at us. The undiluted may taste nicer for a time, allow us to indulge in the potential of things – but ultimately it is unhealthy, omnipotent, and damaging to our systems. My favourite way to deal with the urge to splurge on emotions, is to use my art, or somebody elses, or turn anything I see into some form of something that is art, and to simply buzz.
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