Mad or Just an Artist?
When I was in high school, I took an intro art class to fulfill some requirements. I didn't know at the time how much I would question my artistic abilities from that moment on. Before then, if anyone asked me if I was artistic, the blunt answer would be no, followed with a scoff.
I always thought being artistic meant you were a natural with drawing or painting, and I envied those who were. I wanted that to be my thing too, but it always felt forced and disconnected, even though I swore that I felt some sort of artistic ability deep down.
About a year or two later, I was reading about how people use art as their outlets, and they mentioned how there are so many outlets other than just drawing and painting. The one they mentioned was about writing, and how we often times forget how artistic writing truly is. Poetry is art. Comparing and analyzing situations in life is art. Acknowledging the world around us is art. No matter how you do it.
I had decided writing was my outlet and started journaling at night before bed. I mostly used it as a diary situation, but my writing became more and more thoughtful as time went on. When I went on to live by myself, I started journaling even more and recently noticed that I almost always journaled at night. I also recalled that this past year, I've done the least amount of writing since I started, roughly 5 years ago. This past year, I was also waking up at 6 in the morning for work.
In all honesty, my best writing has come from the deepest darkest corners of the night, and I've wondered if I'm crazy like some of those other famous writers or just a night owl. The unfortunate part about all this though, is I really do love early mornings, especially when it's quiet and foggy outside, but my body doesn't. I even used to tell my mom I was allergic to getting up early, because I would legitimately feel nauseous when she woke me up before 7.
One thing I would also like to note is my dreams. I've noticed that I only have crazy, in depth dreams when I stay up late and sleep through the morning. I used to have these dreams when I was younger that were so complex and intense that you could definitely write a book about. In the past year, though, I either couldn't remember them or they were stress dreams. Until now. Ever since I've started staying up late like I used to, I've been having wild dreams again, so maybe there is some logic to my brain's madness. Maybe not.