People often tell me...
"you're so lucky to live in such paradise", (Riviera Maya really is a paradise);
"you're so brave for leaving everything behind in your hometown, so suddenly, you're so brave for taking off to find a new world",
"you have balls",
"you are strong",
"you seem so happy and centered and focused",
"you are so creative and artistic",
"you are beautiful",
"you are one of the few people in the world that actually DOES what they like, instead of settling for a random office job"....
I don't see what they see...
I wonder who they are all taking about,
I wonder who they are looking at,
I wonder who am I looking at....
I don't think we are talking about the same girl.
I don't think we are talking about the same girl at all.
Sometimes I feel as if I´m leading two lives.
I mean, I´ve always known I have a bunch of girls inside my head, instead of just one, but still... I think I really am living two lives.
One, is the one you all guys know here, "the artist" (if I can be considered such). The artist that blogs, writes, paints and illustrates her thoughts, her dreams, her pain.... especially the one that comes from the heart. The artist that always seems to be depressed, unmotivated, heartbroken, lost... that is the "real" me.
But, some other people (and friends!) don´t really "know" this side of me; and not because I want to be a fake, but because I really don´t see the need of showing them this side, I don´t think they´d care and I don´t want to explain either...I´m too lazy for that, so I just go along and play a random girl that does yoga, does some art, works at a store and enjoys watching movies and reading books and listening to music. Most of my fellow yogi friends and students are acquainted with this side of me only... I guess you could say they´ve only met the surface, the tip of the iceberg.... but they haven´t seen the rest; the hidden darkness, the broken dreams, the dirty past.... they must think I´m just another average girl from the mob. And I could not care less.
That is also why I keep my two lives appart. People from my "artist" life don't know my "yogi" life and viceversa. And I don´t think they would even get along... maybe a few, yes... but the rest... they´re from such different crowds, I don´t see a connection. Or will I be the link to connect them?
This yogi life is full of positivity, full of love, full of good energy and happiness that there´s only a little sadness or darkness I can produce, at least among them. Yeah, they know I'm sarcastic and moody, some call me the "bad yogi" or "dark yogi", but stilll... I´m not "myself" among them. I can´t be that depressed while I´m with them... and what bugs me is that I hate that. I don´t like hiding my darkness, and at the same time, while I hide it...or better yet, while I supress it... I feel so good. I feel free, detached, able to breathe!
But as soon as I´m back home, alone at night, staring at the ceiling, it all comes back, the depressed artist appears and I´m back to tears and painting my sorrows in black and white.
Does this make any sense?
It's like all those times in my life... when I used to attend family reunions or during Christmas and New Year family parties; I had to play a certain character. It´s always been like that, it's weird I know, but I cannot help doing it. I had to hide my darkness and depression from aunts and uncles and grandparents and the rest of them. On one side, my mother always begged me to behave like a "normal" kid, and on the other side, the thought of having to explain to them why my face was sad or why was I worried or why was I lost...ugh... I'd rather put on a fake smile for a couple of hours and play dumb than attempting to explain the universe inside my head to people that will only worry, get freaked out or just simply won't understand and advice me to seek medical attention pronto, you know what I mean?
What should I do?
If I kill the artist, my art will cease to exist...and that would be my death, I KNOW!
..but if I kill the yogi... I will lose that tiny part of me that has light and joy and purity. Don't get me wrong, leading the "artist" life has it's groovy moments, but most of them are way too melodramatic and well, sad. But I cannot kill anyone.
I must find a balance among these two, right?
Maybe I should introduce the artist to the yogi... and I think I've been trying to do that for a while, but they don't have much to talk about... still, I'll keep trying to hook them up.
There's gotta be a way we can all co-exist.
It's weird you know... this theatrical separation of my personality happened after that accident.... the one that I write all the time about, the one I dedicate all my drawings to.... the love accident I was in... the one where I got my heart broken... man, all the things that such incident has caused.... like I've said it before, it is the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me.
All my life, people have been asking me that question.
And all the time I answer the same exact thing: "that's just how my face is".
Maybe some people are born to be sad.
Doomed to wander in melancholia.
No wonder depression is my best way of expression.
A dear cousin (and almost sister of mine) told me last week "you are addicted to sadness, to depression. And because you use it to create art from it is why you don't get out of it. You don't want to be happy, you want to stay sad and depressed because without it you'd have no source of inspiration."
I think she's right.
I've always felt that way too but was too afraid to say it out loud. Without it, I can't create.
I drew this the other day I read that quote on some blog...
I want to remember who's blog it was but I can't! I'm sorry!
..Please, if you are the person that wrote something about "manic obsessive" and "the truth is I love all my obsessions, all of my addictions. Whether that's tobacco, or alcohol, or people, or emotions." ....let me know!
..'cause you inspired me into drawing this..about MY obsessions and addictions.