You know how the best music, art, writing is created when people are depressed? Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, Kurt Cobain, John Kennedy Toole. John Kennedy Tool authored The Confederacy of Dunces, one of my favorite books. He committed suicide after he wrote it. His mom found the manuscript in his bedroom. Realizing her son had written a masterpiece, she pounded the pavement trying to find a publisher. She pleaded with them to read it. They scoffed. They were plenty busy with other manuscripts. Why read some unknown? She begged until a publisher who took pity on her decided to read it; he couldn’t put it down.
I picked the book up on a whim and read about the author’s suicide in the preface which made me want to read it even more. Maybe if I die, my mom will send my blog link to Simon & Schuster or Random House.
Some time ago, when I was a little down in my relationship, I decided to paint. I had never done it before, but I thought it would soothe me. I went to Flax, the popular art store on Market, picked up a few paint brushes, paint, and a huge canvas. They just sat there in my place, unused. I didn’t touch them. Then one night, when it was already very late, I decided it was time. I didn’t sketch it out. I didn’t have anything in mind. All I could think was my heart was heavy and I wanted to get it out. So I painted hearts which I made into flowers and turned into a garden. The painting isn’t anything special, but it seems to match my decor.
I call it ‘the hollow garden’ because a garden is supposed to be lush and full of life like a heart. The garden appears to be blooming, but it’s really vacant and hollow. That’s how I felt. I’m turning a new leaf, though. I get better and better each day–only a few tears today. Tomorrow maybe there’ll be none.