The drive

Another rough night. Tomorrow I’ll switch the rooms back to the way it was when I first moved in here, I’ll get better sleep in the other room. I’m feeling restless but motivated to go back to painting. This time I’ll study myself while working – to see what the painting process means to me, if it’s a way for me to relax or if I consider it ‘work’. I’ve never really defined those things – and they are important. My artistry has been so linked with the motivation to prove to myself and to the people who have bullied me or abused me that I can achieve whatever I want if I put my mind to it. That I’m stronger than any form of abuse or humiliation. And I don’t feel like I have to prove myself to other people anymore. I am not driven by vengeance or a defensive disposition. Now, I want to express myself and I don’t care what other people might think or feel about me. It doesn’t concern me and it doesn’t affect my ambition to say the things I want to say through my art. I am more driven by the thought of sharing the experience of trauma and recovery – the spiritual healing through facing all the demons inside. The cleansing of the core – and its expansion through all the layers of self-protection, self-abandonment and shame.

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