An obvious goal with art, if not the sole one, is to visually communicate ideas. That being said, I know my hand often speaks a language that’s not easily translated. Although that can be frustrating at times, I’m nonetheless grateful to possess the creative abilities that I do. My art sincerely allows me to release the thoughts that hammer on the inside of my skull and demand their goddamn freedom. Whether they’re understood on the outside or not, I don’t care. They’re out!

The problem is, I can’t seem to create art often enough to keep up with myself… and I end up, all-too-often, running in desperation to an alternative mode of expression, verbal communication, which is just not my fuckin’ forte. I mean, at least I have the luxury of endlessly editing these journal entries before I hit “publish”, but in real life I’ll chirp all night long, clumsily swiping at words that always evade my grasp. Try as I might to get an idea across, I ultimately walk away feeling like I’ve missed the mark.

Anyway… today I was listening to an old Terence McKenna lecture and I think he articulated it perfectly…

For him to illustrate the simple act of conversation in that way was really nice. I took comfort in simply blaming my lack of verbal skills on our entire species’ woefully inadequate mode of communication. Then, of all things, he brought up the octopus…

Now, oddly, and especially as an artist, I’m even a little envious! I ended up Googling an article or two as well. Brilliant little bastards!

I don’t have anything else to say… but, yep, that burned away a couple hours.

Time for dinner.