As quickly as Autumn arrived, with its subtle breath of woodsmoke and fallen leaves, has come the inevitable motivational rut. Artists deal with these phases constantly, and I am no exception. The blues have struck me violently, leaving me feeling like an empty shell, stuffed only with cotton and feathers. My camera collects dust during daylight hours while I'm either going through the motions at volleyball practice, cheering my team on at a league game, running at the track, attending classes or finishing off homework. During the evenings, my favorite activities fight for time -- such as writing journal entries, posting on the blog or reading -- but catching as much sleep as possible is also ideal. I feel like an extinguished bulb; out of ideas, inspiration, and the willpower to make art.
Every morning starts with the blare of my alarm at 6 a.m., and each time it's a little harder to leave the comfort of my bed. School is a constant collection of monotonous drones and crowded hallways. Class lessons that seemed fresh and new at the start of September have fizzled out. Gym class makes me want to bash my head on the ugly beige walls, listening along in Tech. Ed. makes my ears bleed and even my English note margins have filled with doodles of Paris streets, Manitoban prairies and British teashops; all of the places I'd rather be.
So it makes me question, why do I keep getting up? Why do I roll out from under the blankets each morning, mustering my strength to face the day ahead? A simple answer: "We all struggle, keep going."
As much as I wish the calendar would fast-forward to Christmas holidays, I am firmly aware that there's something to treasure in each day I get through. Maybe it's a rewarding trip to the pumpkin farm at the end of the week or simply a heartfelt compliment from a passing friend in the hallway, but there's always something.
This funk will lift, the clouds will pass and the storm will reside. My inspiration will come back. It always does.