There is art I love: Art I want to surround myself with.
Then there is the art I create.
I don't know why they have to be different. The two, separate. I feel as if the art I create should be the art I love, but at least right now, that doesn't seem to be the case. Our relationship is not as accepting - sadly. There'll be moments, slight moments, when my heart will flutter and I'll feel joy and happiness in seeing my own art unfold, but then the next moment I tear it apart in my mind and analyze it with a harsh eye that only emerges when it comes to look at myself. I've thought about it tonight and I've come to a conclusion: I guess - for me, there is a final element that I need in my art. I need it - to achieve a sense of completeness and I wish I didn't have to need it so much - but right now in this phase of my life - I do. It's not something I can conjure up on my own. I have to wait. And I will wait and wait and hope that one day, I'll have come across it. I guess then I shall see if it will make my heart just a little bit more forgiving when it comes to myself.
Do you love something or someone so much, yet it causes you much pain at the same time?