Wednesday, January 08, 2003

Do you know what it's like to be me? . . . I am an artist. I'm sensitive. I am so fucking sensitive. I care about the things that other people don't have time to deal with. I care about things you've never thought of. I care about things Ghandi didn't give a flying fuck about....I create. I walk the line of abandonment, feel the saber of despair, pierce my guts so my breath when it arrives flows through in bloody sprays of artistic struggle. I turn up the tv so Charles in Charge drowns out my screams of creative torment, so as not to upset the neighbors. Until finally, I emerge from my lair with Art.
And it always sucks.
I'm a failure. I've written poetry; I've sketched; I've worked with clay, ceramics, watercolor; I wrote monologues, novellas, children's stories, limericks; I've produced films, when they fail, video; I've tried my hand at puppet shows, kabuki theater; I sang scat; I choreographed movement pieces; I've tried the guitar, the piano, the harp, the trumpet, the french horn, the alpine horn, the tuba; I auditioned for the Handel choir and was cut.
Failure. Failure. Rejection, rejection, you stink.
Everyone expects me to quit....But they don't get it. I can't quit. I've got a sado-masochistic relationship with my muse. She seduces me, she urges me to come over, to produce, then she whips me to pieces and humiliates me. I try to stop, but when I stop I feel terrible for not producing. I loathe the fact that I can't enjoy what is around me without having to constantly think of doing something. Everyone else is running to the post office, or making their little vacation plans, enjoying a bowl of cereal perhaps, and I am forced to think about my next endeavor.
But without me, there wouldn't be you. Yes. I know you're a writer. I can tell. Just know that you would be nothing without me. Because there is bad art out there for your work to be better than. It's all in comparison, my friend. And if I wasn't so fucking bad, you wouldn't be so fucking good.
You owe me.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my next failure.

-Hugh Brown Shu