Notes to self

- Subtitle for this blog: Pencil drunkard - diary of an idea-drinker in China
Being a drunkard also means that despite your better judgement, against current wisdom or current sense, one re-enters into a world in which anxiety, stress, agitation and anger are sure to follow any euphoria that might be promised from said indulgence.

Anyone who witnessed the screaming and shouting, anger and unruly behaviour that followed my recent painting session- namely my children who were innocently interrupting my session with idle questions and their will to be involved or to assist in the activity, will be sure just how destructive this habit can be to the family unit. My childish tantrum followed my frustration as sure as night follows day.

Despite the dangers, the personal trauma and torment that generally accompany this habit, I persist in its activity. I am wracked by its constant presence in my life- I cannot shun it because I'm an old soak(pencil wise), yet it makes me miserable and I am weakened by it. It steals time from me and makes me think Im something Im not.

Of course I dramatise, of course I am exaggerating. However when in the throws of inspiration or the lack of it, I feel hopelessly lost and desperate to be somewhere else where the goals and rewards, the rules and risks are far more prescribed and accepted- a regular job for example. A normal life.