The Pyromaniacal Self

I’ve hit a block. It’s not a creative block. It’s simply a block in my head telling me to avoid finishing the project.

I’m finding so many other things to do other than finish the last Self [other] piece. I want to avoid it. I welcome the distractions that take me away from it. It’s not just the fear of mortality that I’ve mentioned before; it’s actually the fear of the euphoria of finishing.

Every time I finish a project the release is immense. It’s like finishing all my school exams and running down the street naked and drunk. Once this cancer of creativity has been extracted from my brain I want no more to do with it. The art created means nothing to me. I’ll become feckless with joy to the point where I don’t want to set eyes on this work ever again.

I literally want to burn it.

The only reason I don’t is that I would have nothing to show in an exhibition, nothing to share with others, and nothing physical to show for my efforts. I would have nothing with which to further my art career. And (before you suggest it) I wouldn’t even film the event and show it as a pretentious art piece because I have no interest in film as a medium. 

I would simply burn it.

And then I’d move on to the next spark of creativity and build the next pyre of art.


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