THE QUIET MULE COMPANION:

From the time I began to invest heavily in animation, I had dreamed of being famous.  Without this drive to compete with others, I would have never had an interest in art.  Because of bullying and inconsiderate teachers, among other negative influences, I probably would have dropped out of high school if it were not for my artistic motivation.  I can safely say, capitalism gave me meaning in life.  Yet, it also left me a broken and disheveled boy.

I think back to those days, whether I would have spent even more time watching pornography or TV and left the house less frequently, if I had no art.  Or whether I could have broke out of my shy tendencies and socialized if art was not a priority. 

I gave myself the label of an outsider, but I was too ignorant to realize I was a product of the system.  Most artists fail to realize how their own behavior and art has nothing to do with them as individuals, but instead with their culture and transmissible behavior.  Many often theorize about art, but few are conscious of how their own mind operates. 

So all throughout my life, art was fueled by my feeling of superiority over others.  I thought I needed this to remain sane in high school.  But the old routine stuck with me and continued to keep me separate from my surroundings. 

To some extent, during the process of creating, meditating and spending time in nature, my habits would subside and my detached state lessened slightly.  But as soon as I was finished with one of those three, my mask would rush back into place.  Until one day, when I chose to become a depressed nervous wreck. 

Slowly I lost that competitive trait, so much so that I kept withdrawing from classes in college, eventually dropping out.  This depressed me further and I stopped my search for artistic meaning altogether. 

I needed that artificial institutional setting to focus on art.  I did not have the confidence to do it on my own.  I had three classes left plus an internship.  The thought of a career contending with people over jobs and recognition in the real world was too frightful for my immature mind to bear. 

At first, I replaced that drive with the short-term goal of completing a great sculpture for my thesis.  Pathetically I wasted many a day sulking.  As a result, my sculpture was left unfinished.  This was the final blow to my ego.  I would spend even less time on art the following year.  Almost two years have past. 

It is incomprehensible to me how little I have accomplished since.  But then, that is the system talking, not me.  I have not exactly achieved anything, but I have learned more in these two years then the previous twenty-three.  You see, the system wants me to continue working without taking a break to mature.  Thinking is the systems worst enemy.  Once you spend time in deep reflection frequently enough, you no longer are so easily assimilated.

That is what is missing with many creative people today, no deep reflection.  They only think of an idea, and then immediately act on it.  They never learn during the process and grow as humans.  It is so damn simple to call yourself an artist nowadays without ever producing a genuinely unique or beautiful thing.  From hero worship to nostalgia, present day artists search everywhere but themselves.  I am not talking about a lack of selfishness.  There is plenty of that.  I mean people are completely dependent on other’s ambitions.  They have little ability to resolve stuff on their own.  That is Capitalism for you.  Where people imagine they are independent, but rely on corporations, institutions, “experts” and addictions.  A land of make believe. 

When I talk of introspection, I do not intend to bring up the image of the dispirited western artist.  Ideas through depression feel exciting but come at a steep price.  When depressed, you are weakened mentally.  You exhaust your mind, and as a result it partially shuts down.  The creative forces seem to be more productive within this state.  The gap between the self and the other releases its grip so your mind can reserve its energy.  Creativity then becomes an addiction that comes in jolts.  In extreme circumstances, this can lead to being stuck in a dysphoric slump, creating only to ignore responsibilities. 

The way of art is to let prowess come to you.  Creative forces never cease.  Existence flows evenly if you are aware of its presence.  It is nature working through you.  The creativity comes slowly.  Over time it will gradually increase.  I realize this sounds evasive.  Nature cannot be understood through language.  Sure, it can guide you but your own experience is what counts.  Using effortlessness cannot possibly deplete your energy.  Addictive creativity comes in a rush and leaves in a rush, leaving you feeling empty without it.  This reinforces the cycle of depression.  It is an ever-worsening trap.  Believe me.