Inspiration

The occasional person will look at a piece of artwork and ask me what inspires me.

This is quite a difficult question to tackle, and rarely do I have thick enough shoulder pads to counterattack with a touchdown answer because so much of what inspires me is drawn randomly from my life. Things that I find inspiring derive from vast assortment of situations, scenarios, daydreams, environments, and even little things that creak in the nighttime. I guess it's appropriate to answer the question with another question; "Inspires me to do what?". It is obviously a personal question fueled by one's own interpretation of "inspiration". From there it is easy to see how that opens a whole new can of worms...ok, let's forget the worms, those things are kind of gross anyways.

I mean if someone were to threaten to waterboard me I'd probably say something along the lines of

Literature
1. Stotan
2. A Beautiful Mind
3. In Joy Still Felt
4. Master and Margarita
5. The Little Prince
6. Whale Talk
7. Without You
8. I Can't Tell You
9. 1984
10. Farenheit 451
Recording
1. Vienna by Billy Joel
2. Try Not To Breathe by R.E.M.
3. Warning Sign by Coldplay
4. The Journey by Mpulz
5. Tidal Wave by Owl City
6. In Her Eyes by Josh Groban
7. Finale B by Jonathan Larson
8. Saras Band by Mannheim Steamroller
9. The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel
10. Love of the Common People by Bruce Springsteen
Film
1. The Little Princess
2. Rent
3. October Sky
4. Baraka
5. Dirty Dancing
6. The Notebook
7. The Truman Show
8. A Clockwork Orange
9. I'm Not There
10. Brokeback Mountain

I mean, lists are an easy way out of things, but honestly, I would want an easy answer if I were approaching the alternative of being water boarded. However, this threat is not imminent at this present time, so allow me to take a step beyond the idea of somewhat materialistic things that inspire.

For example, I enjoy a great deal of soft rock and classical music. You might call me an escapist, which is more to say that I enjoy thinking about what the world would be like if it were different...better than it currently is. This thought is odd, but at the same time it puts me within the broad plane of idealism.

Given paint and a canvas I can forget my surroundings yet still be highly sensory. It is almost as if I am closing my eyes to what I do not want to see and directing my focus onto my present object of affection. I love painting material that neither suggests nor blatantly tells me exactly how to represent it. It just sort of falls onto the canvas will a little prodding.

Life is so beautiful, and when I paint the world becomes even more beautiful still because I must pause and focus on the little nuances and shadows that make the sky shine and the clouds dark. I'll be the first one to admit that I haven't figure out a single damn thing about life, but as the days go by the more a realize that I have no interest in living for myself. My focus is much more upon things unseen. I realize that I am being a bit elusive, but it shouldn't be that difficult to discern my true meaning.

Every second is fine because that is ultimately the way that it must be. You can only alter the present, but by the time you are done hesitating it has passed you by.

That alone, unequivical kick in the ass, and reason enough to motivate and inspire me.