EmersonLake
Two
- MBTI
- infj
Hey everyone.
I'm not sure if any of you on this forum are creative minds, perhaps even artists, for emotionally creative people will much better connect and understand my dilemma.
I'm typing this from a studio, sitting alone in a warm, dark corner surrounded by flickering candles, beeping lights, and useless keyboards. This once was a place that welcomed me with a center of radiating peace, a womb-like atmosphere if you will. The studio has always been beaming with a feeling of pure zen...a sanctuary entirely shielded from the outer world.
Today, this has changed.
I have been slaving away at a record for the past 3 days, searching to realize an envisioned, yet impossibly unattainable level of perfection. You see, when it comes to my craft, I feel as though my records are never, ever truly completed, but rather hopelessly abandoned... for if I were to never abandon them, they would never get released. I feel as though I am never happy or satisfied with my work, to the point where I constantly re-question myself and my identity as a person, and as an artist. It frustrates me to see other fellow artists seem so solid, so...grounded. They know who they are and what product they are producing. Most of them don't even feel the need to be categorized or attached to a genre...pop, electro, house, it doesn't matter to them. Call them what you like. All they care about is creating and expressing themselves through their craft. For myself, this has never been the case. Don't get me wrong, I am aware that I possess some form of talent, mostly from the positive reactions and support of the people who listen to my music, but at the end of the day, it doesn't mean a thing. None of that positiveness is coming from within. I could have a million fans at my doorstep right now screaming and throwing love my way, but it doesn't mean thing. Emptiness still fills my mind and heart. Having the talent doesn't mean a thing without an identity to hold you up, without a feeling of being complete as an individual... as an artist.
Today, in fact just a few moment ago, I hit a damaging wall.
"Who the hell am I?"
A feeling of emptiness washed over me like never before as I listened to the record being mixed on the monitors.
"Is this song even good? What does it even mean? It's not good enough. Others make better music. Others know who they are. I don't know who I am or what the f*** i'm trying to say."
I feel enslaved to my craft. I want to make music, I mean, deep down music is and will always be the reason I am still breathing. But my relationship with it is so up and down, and perhaps even unhealthy. I don't know. I find myself constantly trying to reinvent my identity to fit some mold of perfection I constantly re-create in my head. It's torture, really. It's a never ending feeling of insecurity, a feeling of being broken in some way.
So in a helpless cry for help, I decided to join this forum to seek some input from you guys. I desperately need some form of support, and I can't get any honest help from the people surrounding me.
Thanks.
I'm not sure if any of you on this forum are creative minds, perhaps even artists, for emotionally creative people will much better connect and understand my dilemma.
I'm typing this from a studio, sitting alone in a warm, dark corner surrounded by flickering candles, beeping lights, and useless keyboards. This once was a place that welcomed me with a center of radiating peace, a womb-like atmosphere if you will. The studio has always been beaming with a feeling of pure zen...a sanctuary entirely shielded from the outer world.
Today, this has changed.
I have been slaving away at a record for the past 3 days, searching to realize an envisioned, yet impossibly unattainable level of perfection. You see, when it comes to my craft, I feel as though my records are never, ever truly completed, but rather hopelessly abandoned... for if I were to never abandon them, they would never get released. I feel as though I am never happy or satisfied with my work, to the point where I constantly re-question myself and my identity as a person, and as an artist. It frustrates me to see other fellow artists seem so solid, so...grounded. They know who they are and what product they are producing. Most of them don't even feel the need to be categorized or attached to a genre...pop, electro, house, it doesn't matter to them. Call them what you like. All they care about is creating and expressing themselves through their craft. For myself, this has never been the case. Don't get me wrong, I am aware that I possess some form of talent, mostly from the positive reactions and support of the people who listen to my music, but at the end of the day, it doesn't mean a thing. None of that positiveness is coming from within. I could have a million fans at my doorstep right now screaming and throwing love my way, but it doesn't mean thing. Emptiness still fills my mind and heart. Having the talent doesn't mean a thing without an identity to hold you up, without a feeling of being complete as an individual... as an artist.
Today, in fact just a few moment ago, I hit a damaging wall.
"Who the hell am I?"
A feeling of emptiness washed over me like never before as I listened to the record being mixed on the monitors.
"Is this song even good? What does it even mean? It's not good enough. Others make better music. Others know who they are. I don't know who I am or what the f*** i'm trying to say."
I feel enslaved to my craft. I want to make music, I mean, deep down music is and will always be the reason I am still breathing. But my relationship with it is so up and down, and perhaps even unhealthy. I don't know. I find myself constantly trying to reinvent my identity to fit some mold of perfection I constantly re-create in my head. It's torture, really. It's a never ending feeling of insecurity, a feeling of being broken in some way.
So in a helpless cry for help, I decided to join this forum to seek some input from you guys. I desperately need some form of support, and I can't get any honest help from the people surrounding me.
Thanks.