I spent a good ten minutes of fervor and energy on looking for a pen. I had a pen, in fact I was sitting at a desk that is currently home to about 10 pens. The problem is though I'd don't like regular ballpoint pens. I can't stand the way the ink flows, the writing in consequence flows. It feels much more forced and I wanted to get out a hurried flow of words an ideas, I needed a pen to flow with me. Not something I needed to fight against. My search turned up nothing, so I settled for a green brush tip marker. It was not the pen I was looking for but it was on hand and lent a better flow than any of the plain black pens. I had a completely manic moment it would seem. Now I sit here typing about it trying to bring some of that energy back. I have a flurry of thoughts in my head for an idea that will take quite a bit of preparation for. I have some shopping to do before I can even create a reference photo.
Though in all this mad flurry I did come across some rather comforting thoughts. I've been focusing on how to make money, how to fit into a standard. That's not what I need. I need to follow my inspiration. I need to spend more time working on my art, so I can work on more ideas. I shouldn't be so worried about doing a series because that's what I should do, because that's what other artists do. I have a book of inspiration that I'm ignoring in favor of a series, that seems to honestly be failing. I'm happy with several of the pieces, and I think me calling them a series doesn't really make it such. They are more like a forced grouping. I think my current piece could be great but it doesn't need the constraint of a series. It may not be what is best for my career, but it's what's best for my passion. After all the main unifying factor of my work is that it's mine, my inspiration, my work.
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