Soul of an Artist

 I often ask myself why I used to feel the need to numb my feelings. Did I always need to numb them, or was it a compulsion that drove me to do so. Whether highs, or lows.

There are 2 schools of thought. Some say that you turn to substances because of your propensity to become an addict, something inherent in your physiology. Other schools of thought are proponents of the underlying issues being the cause for a person to turn towards substances of any sort, ranging from alcohol, to mood-altering medication, to drugs. It makes little difference what your poison is, once you are on the merry-go-round, really - you're stuck there until you find the will to get off.

I have always had deeply intense emotions - the artist in me always prevailed, even if I performed brilliantly in academia. As powerful as is my brain, so is my capacity to be subject to very intense emotions, that has not always been easy to deal with. Indeed it was very, very hard. 'Was' not being exactly correct.

From a rather young age, I have felt things intensely, whether it was the passion for dance, the intensity of being betrayed by your best friend, the joy of painting or the rejection of class-mates. The insecurity of circumstances, an exciting prospect, a beautiful landscape or a deeply powerful piece of music.  At the age of 13 or 14, the counsellor diplomatically told me that I am 'a shade too sensitive'; her words ring true today, so many years later. It is not something one switches off. It stays with you as part of your psychology.

This inability to live with my overly-sensitive nature has often led to my being simply unable to handle myself. Many a time came when the pain or delight or something was too intense to deal with.  Hearing a piece of music for the umpteenth time would still send tingles down my spine; the delight of painting a pretty picture and making a mess with paint and brush would throw me into wild fancies, and the inability to dance would throw me into the depths of despair. 

It is this soul of an artist that thrives on afflication, and which guarantees that artistic inspiration comes when one is at one's lowest. Or in any case, when trouble looms. Facing it in plain sobriety is probably more intense - at least until the soul catches up with the missed years of growing up, which were lost whenever these feelings were numbed, rather than dealt with. The years have not in any way helped me brush off these feelings or switch them off. Perhaps I can try to reframe - and sometimes I do. Yet, it is no easy task.