But not even that is “my art”. For me to
consider something “my art”, I guess it needs to have emerged at the end of a
battle. By this I mean a real, earnest struggle, one that’s extremely brutal
and hurls me into the pits of despair, but also rewards me with a rush I can’t
get anywhere else.
Enjoyable or excruciating, your love for
painting really knows no bounds, does it? Do you feel painting is your calling?
I’m
not really sure. But I can’t really think of anything else it could be. There
are some parts I still don’t get, but yeah, I suppose it probably is my
calling. I’ve said in the past that I was really into leather shoes when I was younger and wanted to be a shoemaker, but I never
actually did it. In the end, all I’ve done and am still doing is art, which
I’ve been good at since I was little. I still have no idea where things will go
from here, but at this point all I can do is keep on painting. After a lifetime
of going with the flow, that’s all I know how to do.