An artist doesn’t just create art using previous mediums. Artists also create their own mediums in which the art is expressed. Once an artist finds his true medium, he then is able to combine his previous works, his ideas, and his surroundings into a unique composition.

An artist who does not create might be called an uninspired artist, might be diagnosed with writer’s block, or might be incapable. Creativity might be the act of Meta thinking. When you think about what you are thinking, and it is approved by your thoughts, then you approve yourself to create. When you don’t approve, you are overthinking. If you over think about thinking, writing becomes messy, art is ruined, and rubbish is what seems to be created.

Sometimes as I write I do not know what the heck I am writing about. I just rant on without thought about my thoughts, which is hopefully what I just covered. But it allows me to put all my thoughts into paper, or in this case, into the computer.

I just lost my train of thought, so I am writing this right now as I am thinking about how the heck I run back onto the rails, which I guess I just did since I am writing even more rubbish. Now I question myself If I even know what rubbish means. What I mean is: saying something that is not worth publishing, something to go into the wastebasket. I now wonder if anyone sane enough would want to read through this and if this is interesting at all. I don’t know where I am going with this sentence because I just write the beginning of a sentence without knowing where it will lead.

A World To Climb

It is also how I draw. I just start with one simple object, I then start drawing it and midway through the drawing I come up with an idea based on how I am doing. I am able to shape my art throughout the process of creating. As I continue, I build on top of what I just accomplished. In the end, I end up with something I am proud of. Something I had no idea what was to become from the time I had started working on it.

This essay, article, post, or whatever you call, it has been the same journey. I do not know why I call it a journey but I guess it simply is. It is a process through time which takes us from point A, in this case a Blank Sheet, to point B, a finished piece of art. As I am writing this, I also think about the book which I have recently read some chapters from.

The book is called On Writing Well, It is actually written by William Zinsser. The only reason I remember that name is because of my experience with the use of Shellac. Which is a base for a paint primer. The brand of this product is Zinsser. This is because the grandfather of William Zinsser actually came up with the formula for Shellac. Now I feel lost, I have just given you a piece of knowledge and I am lost. I have again lost my train of thought, but I will continue writing. I hope I only have to make minor edits to this piece, but I do not know if it is any good. I am just continuously writing about anything which crosses my mind, I am trying to avoid that voice in my head which approves or disapproves my statements. It is all raw. I don’t know if this will be any helpful to anyone. But I do not think I have ever written this much continuously. I wonder what is to come when I read this piece for the first time.

As writing is not the same as reading. When you read or view your own work from a viewer’s view, you are unaware of what to expect. I don’t know if what I just wrote makes any sense. But I am not going back to review it. I am just writing for the sake of it. Another work which I remember doing is the soap project during my senior year in high school.

It was in architecture class. And everyone had to carve something out of bars of soap. I had a partner, we always partnered up for every project in that class. We were unsure of what to create, unsure of what to carve. So I came up with the idea to carve out an outdoor playground. My partner did not know how we were going to do this. Our teacher was also unsure. And I personally didn’t know how it was going to happen. But we all knew somehow, someway, soap was going to turn into an outdoor playground. So we began, we carved piece by piece and we made an outdoor playground. Other than that, we worked on many other projects in that class. Projects I am proud of.

In my experience, I learned the most from doing things after I had finished the required assignments. I would finish all the required assignments weeks before everyone else did. These weeks I would just do anything I wanted in the class, I explored with the ways of working the software we were given. I created numerous things I was proud of and things which got recognized by the school principal. I also created numerous things I had no idea what they were. Things just got made and I just learned. I achieved a lot by just exploring and not having any expectation of an end product.

I had the basics skills down. All my assignments were turned in exceptionally well and way before the deadline. But once I used those basic skills to create without an expectation, art happened.

Right now I am almost at 1000 words, which is a lot, for me. I don’t think I have ever written so much rubberish in one sitting. I am actually not sitting though. I am half lying in bed with my back against a pillow, which is against a wall. Silence is all I hear except for the bubbling sound of a fish tank in the living room, and the humming of an air conditioner unit outside on the opposite apartment building. I don’t know if I should fill my room with art or if I should just leave it as a completely white room in which I can bring ideas to life. Let me know your opinion in the comments below.

My left wrist is getting a little tired from typing. For some reason it is the one who does the most work. I use many of my fingers on my left hand while I only use one finger of my right hand. They taught me in school to type with all of my fingers, but that is something I find stupid. I naturally just type with one finger which already knows where every letter in the keyboard is. And my left hand actually types more like the traditional style, I use most of my fingers to type with my left hand.

I just stopped typing and had a moment of silence in which I tried to think about what to type. I guess I am just writing about what I just did. I write about what just happened. For some reason I decided to repeat the same thing with two different sentences. Did you catch it? Maybe that has to do with the style of my writing, maybe it does not. I have no idea but I am still a writer. I hope. At least, in my own terms, I write, therefore I am a writer. A writer is just someone who writes. You don’t have to be good and you don’t have to be bad. Some say you do have to be bad, at least in the beginning. I guess there is some truth to that. But I have no idea how it works.

I don’t know how long I will keep this. But I kind of like it. Just writing endlessly for no reason. It is something I have never done before. Maybe it counts as mediation. It does feel really good and relaxing. Because I have never done this before, I do not know what is to come.

There is a blue shirt sitting on my chair. No it is not taking my spot, nor is it saving it. It is just there. Sitting. On my chair.

I don’t know what that was, but it was out of line, my whole shirt story. I separated it from the rest of the paragraph. I think it stands out. But I didn’t know what to write until I saw it just sitting in my chair. So I wrote about it. About what I see. I am starting to see a pattern, I wrote about what had happened, then I wrote about what I saw. And now I am writing about the pattern which I noticed. Noticing is a synonym to seeing right? I don’t know but I guess it is. I have written about what I see and about what had happened. I guess I also write about what I hear, what I feel, and the other senses us human beings experience. Which is not limited to 5. I don’t mean that there is a 6th. But there are certainly more than 5. I say this because we feel emotions. We also sense subtleness not consciously noticed. We have gut feelings.

I want to go back to writing about art in general but I do not really know what to write about art. Nothing comes to mind. And my mind is too lazy to seek something.

Nothing and Something are things, right? Therefore treated as such. I assume. I have no idea what I have no idea about. If that makes any sense or if it does not. That is exactly my point. Or is it. Therefore I write. I write. And I write.

Now I feel like this piece is done. Once you create art. You reach a point where you can feel the end. You just feel it. There is no scientific way of knowing when you are done. It is a gut feeling. You feel finished, you feel accomplished. That is exactly my point. Therefore I write. I write. And I write.