Unknown Land

Sometimes I feel like I've lost all the paths I tried to tread, I feel like I have no place to rest my mind, no safe nest. And I'm not talking about actual places, but about my mind. I can't foresee my future in any way, once I was so sure about what I wanted to do in my life, now all I can see is just a big mess of things and colours and needs. I'm just not satisfied with what I did, I can't seem to find a way to free myself. And I always have this fear, the fear to fail again. I fear I can't improve my skills anymore, I fear I'm not able to learn anymore. I'm afraid that everything I'll try to do will end up like the comics, the drawing thing.

I don't know why I almost stopped drawing, after doing it my whole life. Maybe it was a mix of many things. I've lost all the places where I used to draw, my table, my room. Then I left my home, and I had no tables, no proper lights and so on, but one thing was missing more than the others: inspiration. Drawing was relaxing to me, now it's so stressful. I say myself: there's no reason to draw for myself, because the things I draw I already saw them in my mind, I have no reason to draw them if no one will see them, if no one will appreciate them. Maybe it's been the constant feeling of being ignored that killed my passion, maybe it's just that I can't improve anymore and I'm tired to be unhappy with my own works.

Then, in 2007, my hands started to hurt. Now, everytime I hold a pencil for more than 10 minutes my fingers start to hurt from the inside, my whole hand and my wrist hurt aswell. My fingers feel cold and stiff, I can't control the pencil the way I did.

I don't know. It's so painful to draw for more than 30 minutes.

Now I'm taking piano lessons. Maybe I'll be good at it, I won't accept another failure. I'm hoping that if my fingers get stronger, they'll stop to hurt. I really love music and everytime I had an instrument in my hands I always felt the strong need to play it, to touch it. I don't know why I've never tried to play something. Well, I for sure missed time, and I was so into drawing that I would have never believed that I would have lost that passion.

Even with writing I have troubles. I love to write, people says I'm good at it, but I never feel the need to read. I'm slow at reading, I can read 1, 2 books per year. After I read a book, I always feel the need to write a lot and I do that, but then I stop reading, and I stop writing. I've never been a great reader.

But I'm a great music listener, so I hope this is my way. Let's see. Still, the fear is running deep in me, I need a lot of support, a lot of motivation coming from the outside.

I just feel like I can't hold what I want, like I'm bound to be mediocre for the rest of my life.

Katharine Blake

The other day I was listening to one of my all time favourite songs, Sleeping Beauty of Miranda Sex Garden. To my ears is such a perfect song, because it really fits the idea of the water garden and its atmosphere. It's so perfect in its balancing romanticism, cruelty and sensuality. And the voice tells the story with such elegance. Behind the mic there is Katharine Blake. I wandered why I've never cared that much for all the other stuff MSG published, maybe it was all too strange for the myself of 6 years ago? Anyway, today I found out that in 2007 Katharine published an album with her own name, Midnight Flowers, so I've given it a try. And it was what I expected, it's that style. Her music seems to be such a perfect score to my garden, even if it's not so easy for me to listen to it for too long.

Day one

I think I need some space like this, and I'm not gonna help myself if I keep on denying it. I know very well how big is my hunger for attention and love, but I never give away the things I like of me. I never talk abous the places, the things I used to play with. I never talk about the places because they've been destroyed, and I fear that if I talk about them, people could ruin even their memory, which is the only thing I've got left. I can't talk about the things I've met because they've been so intimate with me, they would stop to exist if I share them with someone. I know they'd rather die.

Here I will talk, because this is a place out of reality, virtual space. Maybe the only potentially eternal thing in the world. Maybe if I place them here, they're gonna live forever even without me.