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Phoenix-from-Flames

Man in the Rain . . .
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Hello everybody !

I'd like to share something with you that I've been pondering
about for the past weeks.
Maybe you can relate if you're in a similar situation:


I've arrived at a point of my life where I suffer from a loss of perspective, the gradual lack of faith and the helplessness of being stuck, lacking the strength to push through. I'm disappointed by people, friends and the way they treat each other.
The old notion of "Do well, be kind and study hard, then you'll make it !" had suffered through on too many clashes
with "harsh reality" and had crumbled.
It used to keep me going and for years, I could firmly believe in it without falter or doubt.
And now, there was only a lack of faith - that and disappointment.

Even worse was the nagging feeling that I disappointed little me - the boy I once was.

You see, at some point during his life, the boy started to turn from a living being into a simple machination, an automaton when things got really ugly. It might have been the unfortunate family situation he was in, maybe it was being ostracized by his peers, the guess is anyone's. Since he apparently wasn't expected to be, he turned to mere function. The development department was closed down and the factory only focused on meeting the production quotas.
It worked, but that was all it did - it didn't give no comfort, no warmth and only false sense of fulfilment :
("I did what is expected of me, so I did well.").

Looking back, I feel incredibly sad for the little one;
he narrowed down his focus of the world so that he would be able to perform sufficiently - for the sole sake of performance, it seems. He put all the beautiful things he encountered on the back seat for
"the time when I can finally do what I want !".

Being allegedly at this point now, I feel incredibly guilty of not meeting the expectations of little me.
In regard to the many things he put on the shelf for later on and all the happiness he had sacrificed, I feel like I disappointed him.
He strived so hard to create the foundation and framework for me to make use of and I don't follow up.
I wonder why I have such a hard time lifting the veil and doing away with all the mental restrictions and halts that little me put in place in order to make himself "work".

I've been struggling to find something to hold onto for the last weeks; most of the things I used to believe in had fallen to pieces and the what was left deteriorated upon closer inspection.
I felt like people had been lying to me about life, how people treat each other and many other things.

Confronted with this bleak thoughts (call it "harsh reality", if you want to), I began to pity the  little guy for giving away so much of himself for . . . well, this. I wondered how he could so firmly believe, how he managed to push through and wither all the dark clouds ?
What gave him the strength to carry on ?
Was it simply because there was no alternative ?
Because he "had" to ?

At that point, I began to envy him for his determination.
Nowadays, I have a hard time finding something to believe in.
Being an adult (oh, how much I loathe the term) it's tough to wither the storms, always hoping for the silver lining on the horizont, occasionally catching a glimpse of it, only to have a new stormfront cover it up again.
Friendly words and encouragement is hard to come by in this world, especially if you're surrounded by the wrong people.
I wished for somebody to believe in me; someone who'd tell me that I'm going to make my way, no matter the odds.
Somebody who believed that I could do, because it's me.
Backed up by that trust, I could get up and go against the storm.

Pondering these throught, I realized that there was somebody who had put all his trust in me. Someone who was so convinced of my ability and determination that he could put himself through the toughest of times without losing his faith:

He believes so firmly in me that he gave all of his hopes and dreams, all the things he put on the shelf to me for safekeeping.

He was certain that I would succeed where he couldn't and he did everything he could to support me.

Who believes in me ?

The little boy - little me - does.

He used the determination he had to create the trust I need now.
A little boy put all his hopes in me
Trusts me implicitly.


I guess that will do. :strong:
 
:stereo: www.youtube.com/watch?v=vyxyw_…)

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If you're struggling with your artistic self like me and are looking for answers or encouragement,
I can point you to the works of Stephen McCranie:

doodlealley.com/
stephenmccranie.deviantart.com…

Of all the works on artistry and artistic strive I've seen so far, these are the ones I'd recommend.

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Mein Lied

My song on the wind travels the world
does it reach you; do you feel it whisper it's tale ?

I cannot sing, the wind doesn't carry words, there's no one there to listen
and I don't have a song to sing in the first place. . .



Burn

Things won't change, no matter what I do - I cling to dreams and hopes like a drowning man clings to a leaking lifevest, dreading the moment it won't be enough to keep him afloat any more.
Salvation and Deus Ex machina only happens in stories and religion and neither's too close to reality.
Still, part of me clings to this straw.



Don't let me die still wondering

I've come to factor out wishes, hope, dreams, desires; some consciously, some not - it's a way of self-protection. In a very sad way, there's a little solace in the fact that since I have only ever
dreamed about it, I won't be missing it as painfully as if I would have caught a glimpse of it for real.



World full of Hate

Where shall I go ? I haven't got a clue. And why should tanything be better somewhere else ?
People proclaim to be your friends because they haven't decided to be your enemies yet.
It seems anybody makes his/her choices arbitrary anyway - People switch opinions and beliefs they have declared holy on a whim, without any remotely logical or sane reason and aggree among themselves that you're the insane one for not seeing the pristine logic and absolute reasoning behind their decision: "How would anybody think otherwise ? Why are you so upset ?"
And my personal favourite: "I'm sick of explaining it to you - you don't want to understand anyway !".
Nothing's safe of this way of "reasoning"; workplace, family, relationships (anything that doesn't fall into the first two categories) - take your pick.
It makes life seem quite surreal . . .

My lady boss is going out of her way trying to find something she can blame on me; she'll pounce on the merest idea of me doing anything remotely odd like a flock of vultures on a corpse. Doesn't matter if she's completely wrong and even embarassing herself in the progress, because there never was a error on my part in the first place.
Reality - if you wanna call it that - can be erased by the final words: "It's all the same !".
Logic ? Reasoning ? Sanity ? Matter of fact ? Reality ? Doesn't matter - it has been decided you did wrong and have just been gratiously - Mind your ways, this may be the last time ! - left off the hook by the supreme court.

Oh, don't even dare resist - pointing out that your coworkers aren't blameless is just a most pityful attempt not to accept your failings !

Reality doesn't happen as a matter of facts - it is decided by opinion and opinion alone !



Sleeping Sun

Shroud the world into eternal night; at night, no one can really tell where the sky is. The night is always old, has been since times immemorial. There's bleak comfort in that.



Hall of Fame


Praise is a meaningless phrase; when people tell how "talented" you are and "the place you will go", they just as might scorn you for what you are. If anything, it would be honest.
Open aggression or hate is easier to deal with than sugar-coated backstabbing.
The latter means they dislike you. The former means that you cannot excel or do something remarkable any more; after all, you're "special", so that's a natural thing, nothing worth talking about.
Oh, but how quickly the flock if they sense the tiniest deviation, the smalles smudge on the shining surface: "How could you !!"
Besides, it is told to everybody that he/she can be anything he/she want's - the song plays on the radion, after all - so how stuck-up do you dare to be thinking it's you they are talking about !?!



Castle of glass

No matter how much I know, how many stories I can tell, what I can accomplish - if there's no one to look or listen, it might as well not be real in the first place - there's no difference.
Artist, scientist, philosopher, fighter ? What's the difference ? At best, it will be kindly looked over.
After all, people might feel bad about themselves if they'd acknowledge that you've accomplished something.



Believe

Most of the things which made me what I am today I didn't find find wandering the streets or among my peers. My hopes and beliefs have been shaped by things I could only experience through a screen, an audio speaker.
I never met any of those people for real. I buy artworks and books to provide me with an achor, remining me that these people and the work exists for real and aren't just virtual presences I've come to believe to be real. Even the stage seems too distant to be preceived as real; I saw it, heard it and then it was over and gone, just like that.

Sometimes, I begin to doubt that there's a difference at all; it could all be just virtual fabric, no more real than programmed characters - after all, their presence in my life is just the same.
However, if all these things are virtual, not real, why are they still there ? I cannot seem to find them except behind the screen's glass plane where I cannot reach . . .



My Immortal

In the end, there's only so far one can go on believing; wandering this bleak side of the abbyss, watching the happy playground on the other side.
How long will it last ? What will I do once I feel it running out entirely ?



Everything's alright

I once dreamed I saw an angel flying by.
She was everthing I hope for and hold on to.
I wanted to call out to her
Wished she would put her arms around me
hold me tight
and tell me that everything's alright.
And if that would bee to much to wish for
a hug would be more than enough.
If that's still to much,
give me a smile.
Or a nod.
Maybe just look at me.. . .

I cannot remember what happened after that.



Epiphany


Would you walk right up
too the edge of a cliff
Stare into the abbyss
as your mind wonders if
you should take one more step
further into that night
Though you mind says you won't
but your heart says you might.
Would you fall through the dark
feel the wind in your hair
would you embrace the ground
and en your life right there ?
Or would god reach his hand
and that moment you fly ?
Or if he chanced to blink
and that moment you die ?

stare into the dark
as the abbyss keeps calling
Try to to take a step
and then the mind keeps stalling

Can a single question
just go on forever ?
As a single thought goes on
It's now or never

Never really took much
never really had to
Only had a small crush
Problem was that it grew

You should take one more step
Further into that night
Well your mind says you won't
But then this all is your life.
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Well, it's been a very long time . . . by now it's almost two years since I've been active on dA. 
Quite a lot has happened since then and there were some drastic changes in my life as to myself.

To put it bluntly,  I 've been though heaven, the nine circles of hell and back again.
One day, I lived a wonderful dream, thinking I've had finally found salvation, only to awake in oblivion the next day and a nightmare I thought I'd never awake from.
At some points, I felt like I was radiating the joy of life itself and at some points I wanted to end it all to escape from purgatory (it was a close call).
Fortunately, my journey did not end in desperation and I found my way back to the surface again.
I certainly have changed during that time; life isn't a comfortable teacher, but you definately remember the lessons.

Howevery,  along that path I found a precious gift too:

For more than a decade, I looked with envy at those who could take their visions out of their minds and capture them on paper.
I too had so many pictures in my head, wanted to capture them and make them come to life, but I couldn't.
Naturally, if the last time you held a pencil was more than 10 years ago, you start back there when you pick one up again - according results included. :faint:
I tired to compensate the urge with technology and picked up photography. It was a great experience, but it wasn't what I really wanted to do. :firelite-photo:
Unfortunately, with motivation scarce and support from friends and family basically non-existant, one can easily lose faith in the pursue of artistic crafts.

So, somewhere during that bleak episode of my life, I just picked up a pencil without thinking about it and picked up where I left off so long ago - I started drawing to keep my thoughts in check, to prevent me from overthinking and to occupy my mind from painting one possible dark future after another. If I had at one moment stopped and given my mind time to ponder about what I was doing, I'd have been lost again like so many times before.
However, I never did.

Things were slowly getting better again. I didn't need to prevent me from thinking any longer and could take an honest look at the stacks of paper I had clung to like a liferaft.
What I saw surprised me and even the worst of my inner critics admitted that he could see improvement.
The proof was there, I didn't just imagine it or had to convince myself:

:deviation: I am able to draw. :dalove:

And that's what I'm going to do :painter:


Getting Started by Phoenix-from-FlamesGetting Started 2 by Phoenix-from-Flames

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Here's to all the crazy ones; those who spend their nights awake, their day hours dreaming; those who write and draw, sing and dance, craft and create, gaze and wonder, hope and fantasize; those who've been touched by the tiny sparks of magic in this life and now strive to find them again, wherever they may be. To those who learned to see and those who want to learn; to those who want to pull the magic into this world, as a gift to everybody:

Never shut out a dream that passes your thoughts; never keep your hands still when they're itching to create something; never slow down when you're right on the track.

Let's stay crazy, for all it's worth !
Let's keep "wasting" time and reaching for the skies !
The world needs us to be a place worth living, although it hardly ever realizes it.

Cheers ! :drunk:




(Here are a few of the sparks I've found on my way; maybe you know them already; if not, I'll be happy to share them with you !) :handshake:


www.youtube.com/watch?v=gamKqZ…

lindseystirlingviolin.com/

www.luisroyo.com/

www.terrypratchettbooks.com/

aquasixio.deviantart.com/art/D…

www.indiegogo.com/

www.christianlorenzscheurer.co…

ibarraphoto.com/

www.etsy.com/

wordofchen.deviantart.com/art/…

last3mri.deviantart.com/art/ou…

brandrificus.deviantart.com/ar…

aditya777.deviantart.com/galle…

www.simplemoment.com/

travisra.deviantart.com/art/My…

akifhakannewworks.tumblr.com/

alexiuss.deviantart.com/

www.zazzle.com/

www.trans-siberian.com/

www.facebook.com/Lookinart

www.sparth.com/

www.richardmurrian.net/

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