There it is again. That passion thing came up and again I fail to understand. What is that and why does it seem to keep entering my life? I don't feel passion. I don't see passion nor do I make it. So why then do people keep saying it to me?

Frustrating. To say the least.

For most of the time I had, it was basic, weekly nonsense. How this? Why that and the such. Then I found myself sitting up, throwing myself into what seemed like voluntary convulsions and expressing how it isn't the same for me anymore. The follow up being, why. Of course.

I miss the days with the excitement. The joy of wanting to know what is going to come next and how to get there. I miss the days of realizing what I am capable of and capturing it in the only way that I know how. Now I can only wonder where those days went feeling as if they ended so abruptly. I am lost and I want it back. The memories of the all nighters, the excitement of the next idea and the amazement of my thoughts on paper dance in my head constantly. I struggle to find that person again and turn them in to something I am 'supposed' to do with it. I can't seem to do it. I can't seem to be who I am 'supposed' to be. Who or more importantly, what is that? I thought I am supposed to be me. No? At least that is what I have been made to believe. That or my second grade teacher was lying to me..

I lost the inner me. The person that I know I am. The artist.

I have lost all interest though I know I haven't lost the truth. It is still in me but I cannot seem to uncover the 'supposed to's' and the 'need for survival' to build the artist and blow it into what it is supposed to be. I don't even want to touch it anymore. The thought of grabbing my equipment and capturing what I see is nothing more than a pain to me. The crazy thing is that I see myself doing it. I see myself getting excited. Getting inspired and making work that, if no one else sees, I see and that is more important than anything. I miss those thoughts. I miss those days. I miss that person.

Never did I think I would be looking for them at this point in my life. Never. Perhaps that is why I feel so heavy. The artist is in me but the pile of shit on them is incredibly heavy. Too many 'cant's', 'don'ts' and 'have to's' have been thrown down. For some silly reason, it has blocked me. The real me and only because I have allowed it to happen.

Can I call in a missing artist report?

I miss the artist. I miss me.