On a Sunday morning in a half dream state realized a truth about myself. There is a ‘drag’ element in my life. By drag I mean things go on too long, become saturated, and lose their vitality. My family’s dramas drag out; same with my relating to my sister. My art can drag. There is a sludge like type of feeling in all I do. It's not always fresh. I have to hold on too long.
In high school, which I wasn’t crazy about, I remember staying after in school too long. Others finished their school business and then moved on. In art school the same thing. If anything, I disliked these institutions more than others, but needed for some reason to squeeze out of them what I could.
I think this stemmed from my age old weakness, lack of home base. Lacking the security from a home environment, I clung onto what was offered me, even though most of what offered me further violated my make-up. They didn't nourish, but rather accentuated my deficiencies. So it was a double punishment. As a cat that is slapped returns to the slapper, I returned to these abusers. At least I knew what to expect. If you stayed close to your enemy there might be less damage inflicted. Of course in a strange way maybe there was some nobility in this. I was trying to make a negative work. This was another way of looking at it.
But this flaw damaged my talents and thinking, for it weighed down the natural discovery process with other needs, making what should be wonderment too ponderous.
It wasn't balanced. One shouldn't hang on for dear life to that which is not out for your good.