Do you think there's a time when there is nothing left to say?
I've been thinking about this a bit lately because I've been struggling to come up with blog topics.
Maybe it's just a case of being too content? That might sound odd, 'too content', people might say, 'Is there such a thing as 'too content'?' I think there is. There is an argument that artists require pain to be the most inspired. Pain is an experience which is most intense and needs out before it destroys the consumer. Contentedness, on the other hand is something people want to hang onto, and protect. It is a sense of ease which discourages action, discourages change.
So, maybe I'm too content because everything I do seems to turn to gold at the moment.
I fear being boring with all my contentedness, but also irritating to those who can't share my current experience. Misery loves company, right? A content person does not provide good company for a miserable person.
Perhaps all this contentedness is a form of misery - for an artist. Perhaps not having anything much to say is frustrating, even painful?
I know I find myself avoiding anything that threatens my peace. I am actively avoiding the news. I don't want to debate the plebiscite, or worry about Korea and the US playing with the toys of war. I am certainly not interested in the biggest massacre in modern US history. Particularly because the white US citizen will be passed of as disturbed and not a terrorist, you know because he's not a Muslim.
I'm jaded, and I want to protect this new found contentedness, and consequently I find myself having little to say.
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