Creative Output: nil

I find the most frustrating periods in my life have been where I cannot make anything both substantial and artistic. Plays, short stories, brief essays, comics, drawings. Cheap, little sketches that act as records of my fingers twitching do not fucking count. I don't mind overmuch that my output is not exactly prolific, but I would like it to be steady. Could do to buckle down and force things out, but I'm almost never happy with the results of efforts along those lines. Might be because I have trouble committing to such a program, but whatever. I don't do this stuff out of a desire for discipline.

Fah.

I feel so inarticulate when I set out to express myself in one of these moods, and it only gets worse when I try to do something creative.

Comments

I put it to you:

What is wrong with moustaches? Eh?

For Every Problem, a Solution (2)

Each panel originally had a caption, a feature which was scrapped in a silly attempt to bring cohesiveness to the page as a whole. They were as follows: panel 1 - Pig fingers! Carrot hands! Cannot draw! panel 2 - Focus off. panel 3 - Perspective is a matter of perspective. panel 4 - What, me worry? In thinking about it, I suppose I might have impanelled these in the orange bar at the right, but it probably would've been a bit much. ... I'm not sure how wide-spread the campaign is, but in Seattle, there are numerous billboards and bus signs which read, "Jesus is ____." I want to play mad libs with these things, or else write in, "a day labourer." Other acceptable answers include, "bearded," and, "featured in a Leonard Cohen song."

Sisyphus, as Per Camus:

Word.

Pointless Man

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