I'm doing a little pre-packing and I've come across some old emails I wrote in late 2001....a bad time for me. There's a lot of poetry contained therein.
And you know what? They were good poems. Which puzzled me because I cannot write poetry. Then I made a realization. So much art (whether it be poetry, drawing, painting, singing, etc.) comes from pain.
Why is it that pain brings out our artistic sides? Think about all the entertainers out there. Their lives are so messed up. But think about it. They need the pain of their shattered lives to stay in the business. Otherwise they'd have no material. Am I wrong about this?
On a completely unrelated note, I spent $1300 on clothes today. Suits and stuff. I have never done that. I feel a little wierd about it. No I can't afford it. Yes I used credit. Yes I'll be mad at myself when the bill comes. But I really needed all of it....okay some of it. :)
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