When I’m anxious, I do something, I make something.
It feels like making something changes something and therefore I will be okay.
Or is making something, “look, I’m a good boy” credit that acts as a bulwark against whatever the monkey is needling me about?
Or is it just a distraction?
Is that how real artists feel? Soothed by their creativity?
I guess I have always been anxious a fair amount and that’s why I have always been pretty productive.
I don’t think much about the quality of what I’m making, it’s just the process, the act that acts as protectant. And if anyone comments on how much I get done, I feel more embarrassed than proud, as if I was getting credit for nail biting or nose picking.
I’m being particularly self flagellating right now, and maybe writing this down will just reshuffle the deck and I can get on with things again.
Could be worse, I guess — I could be a drinker or pick fights with strangers.
Instead, I’m writing this to you.