Some time ago, a long time ago now, I lost something. I lost my art. I lost the smell of turpentine, I lost the feel of the gesso on canvas. I turned my back on my art, I let the images that haunted my dreams go one by one until they were all gone. Art was my purpose, it was my life. I would work, come home and paint, on the weekends I would paint the time away.
The world is a distracting place for an artist. It takes all my effort to not be distracted by the world we live in, there is an almost constant din, a merciless and unrelenting white noise travelling through our air, quiet moments are now stolen moments in any modern city.
People are always trying to steal your attention. They want you to buy things that you don’t really need, or persuade you to join their cause. They do this by filling your email mailbox with SPAM that in many cases you have asked for. I know that I do anyway! Nice.