Just Write

I have heard that "there is no great art without great pain," and there are certainly thousands of examples of it across literature, music, and visual art.

Whether "great pain" translates to drug addiction, mental illness, trauma, disease, or depression, we have tons of evidence in the artists we admire that if properly channeled, can result in timeless work.

But what of the aspiring who have yet to know a "great pain"?
We are certainly in the hundreds of thousands.
Must we slave away on our projects in a hopeless dash to leave something worthwhile behind when we die?

Of course, there is plenty of good art without great pain.
We've all enjoyed music or literature or visual art from an artist who did not have his/her foundations shaken/shattered by life, and many of us have even had wonderful existential experiences with that art which has left us illuminated.

Another phrase tossed around is the ancient "Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero electi," translated "many are called, but few are chosen".
There is always the inherent risk when one becomes an artist (a calling if ever there was one) that one's art will only reach a few, or in worst cases no one else at all, while the artist slaves away at a day-job without meaning or merit.
These are the many, but "ars longa, vita brevis" (art is long, life is short), and for the artist the art sustains the soul through the endless grind, even with no audience.

At least for a little while.

But that was yesterday, when a lone musician sitting in his tiny apartment after a long day of hard labor would be filled with wonder as his fingers danced upon his instrument, heard by none.
Technology has given the truly dedicated musician, writer, or artist an endless audience for which to create.

Thus the lone scribe upon his keyboard reaches the world, the lone musician with instrument in hand and a lens in front of face, the lone artist with a digital pallet, all may reach out and find kindred spirits among the endless ocean of digital islands.

Which brings me to myself.
I have had endless opportunities these past nine months to write, to sing, to play, to IMPROVE my craft and my creations.
But I have wasted nearly all of it.
Why?
Because the same technology which provides the artist with an audience may also distract him/her into artistic doldrums in which the mind may still in some part dwell on the unfinished works, but the fingers do not apply themselves, and thus week after week, month after month the craft continues to atrophy.

The DISTRACTIONS! Oh, the distractions!
Am I truly so undisciplined after decades of training that I'm just another blank face staring at a screen?
Was I only a sharpened sword when surrounded by smiths?
Did I truly turn to rust in the instant of unsheathing on the battlefield?

Even READING, one of the few artistic constants in my life, now feels like a chore that I have to deliberately dedicate time toward on days when I have ZERO other commitments!
I have to TEAR myself away from the screen in order to accomplish anything, and it seems to require more and more effort.
And this with a desktop which requires that I sit at it.
I have no idea how much worse I would be if able to be so distracted while never even leaving my bed.

Is it because I do not truly have a daily routine?
These past months have been a massive change, going from working two jobs to working half of one (on-call only).
I keep telling myself "Today" or "This week, we'll do it differently," but the lack of an employment routine seems to sap all of the energy which should be devoted to my craft when the call doesn't come.

Apparently my mental state is manifesting itself outwardly.
On Friday, I had a high school senior ask my age, and when informed, respond with "It's okay, you're still young!"
I had no idea how to respond, and the memory leaves tears in my eyes.