Fighting Inner Demons
I'm staring at this white screen trying to think of clever or at least interesting things to write. It's Friday. It's Blog day. This isn't a new notion. Unfortunately, all I can really focus on is my pounding headache and how much I really just want to give in and go buy a Pepsi. There are a couple factors involved with this issue:
1.) I quit drinking pop on Monday. I was going to quit smoking too, but I realized within four hours there would be cops and jail time involved if I stuck with both. Even with just quitting pop (soda or coke for some of you folks), it's been a bit dicey. I seriously don't remember it being this big of an addiction issue the last time I quit drinking pop, but there you have it. (Ice tea just isn't cutting it.)
2.) The Kansas weather has experienced a bit of an identity crisis all week. It's been dark and rainy the last two days. It's been gloomy but overall not so bad. Today, however, has been nothing but high pressure and humidity mixed with all of the fall allergens and local industry smells hanging in the air. For those of you who don't have chronic sinus issues... I'm in hell.
I'm just grateful that I only have the two vices to work through, though. I admit it, I'm a "failed" Bohemian. I don't drink alcohol (including wine or beer) except for very rare occasions. I only smoke cigarettes (which I didn't even start until I was a senior in college), and I've never experimented with drugs (not even "the weed"). Hell, I wouldn't even be taking Ibuprofen if it wasn't for my mid-thirties kicking in and making it a necessity. (Dad always said it was hell to get old.) As far as vices go, I've been pretty picky about them. I may not ever achieve the time-honored author status of raging alcoholic or write as one of the LSD inspired, but at least I don't have those inner demons to slay, either.
Good thing too. I've got plenty of those little bastards to deal with already.
Where this comes into play for the purposes of this Blog:
People are more than happy to try and typecast artists and authors into specific roles. The expectation is that we're generally moody, brooding types who struggle with alcohol and drug addictions while we wait for our big break. The starving artist. The edgy hipster. The tortured creative type. The middle-aged author sitting at a typewriter, a cigarette in one hand, and a tumbler of bourbon (?) within reach. It may be the romanticized stereotype, but it's generally pretty much B.S. (and I don't mean Bachelor of Science).
The point being, anybody looking to get into writing or art should be aware that you don't have to fit a particular mold to make that happen. You could be the most cheerful, upbeat, sunshiny little bastard in the world, and you might still write some of the best drama or horror stories around. You can do writing and art stone sober and nobody (who matters) would know or care that you weren't "living the lifestyle." The beauty of being in a creative profession is that you get to be exactly who you want to be, because that's where your art comes from, and authenticity is important. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise. We've all got our demons to fight. Knowing who we are shouldn't be one of them.
REMINDERS:
October 21, 2017 Freestate Comicon, Lawrence, KS 10a-5p. (check the events page for more details)
November 4, 2017 Ladies Night Out and Dueling Pianos, Cornerstone Coffee Haus 4p-8p
