and really what is art?

I have a random thought running through my head right now. Its something I thought about in detail the other night as I was having one of my late night brain blasts. (Normally during such times I have a million thoughts running through my mind. The next day I will try to remember what new revelations I came to but I usually can't recall. The scribblings in my journal sometimes offer help as to what I thought I discovered, but sometimes nothing can be salvaged and all thats left of my amazing new insight is a few floating words on a page that were somehow connected at the time...)

I was pondering about what people in todays day and age really consider art.

The typical responce would be that art is an expression of self, but sometime I feel like art becomes to precise. In some areas a person's use of technique is more important than the product itself, and tends to overshadow the image. In the new millenium we tend to put more emphasis on how well something is done, and not what it means.

I often feel my emotions as if through a magnifying glass. There is no in between for me, and so when I am happy it radiates off of me and when I'm sad its visible to the core. I can feel nothing else. If I don't let it out somehow it just rots there, almost like my feelings are an infection that must leave my body before they make me more ill. When these moments arise for my emotional puking, I just let something out.

Page after page of my journal is filled with nothing more than scribbles that "felt right" when they were put there. I also throw down poorly written stories or poems (or whatever one would call the mass of strange writing that ends up there), that are just terrible when not looked at in that exact moment. I can picture someone like me covering themselves in appropriately colored paint and running full force into a giant canvas to let out how they feel at that moment and actually be able to see it after.

Alot of times I look at what I've written and feel like I can create something "good" out of my mess, as if a reasonable states of mind can improve what I was trying to do. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it just doesn't. But is the pollished, tied together end product really my art, or would it actually be the original, difficult to read, grammatically incorrect rants? Essentially they are the same thing, but are they really?

According to the old sayings, art is an expression of self. I'm not sure if I still think this is true, or if I now art is more focused on perfection and technique. What do people appreciate more? And in th complex realm of art, does that even really matter?

I have no idea, but I am not going to edit what I just wrote. I'm posting it as is, mistakes and all.

my writing

It should be no surprise to anyone reading this that I enjoy writing. As far back as I can remember I've always said I wanted to be a writer; in fact, at my elementary school's career day I went as a poet. Now that I've grown up not much has changed, although I do have a more realistic view. I know now that I couldn't handle writing as a career; it would have to be a long time side project for me. Still, at some point I would love to publish a book of my own. Laugh if you want.

The reason I say that last sentence is because my entire life I've had people trying to tell me that I cannot write well. Some of them (like my dreaded middle school English teacher) were rather straightforward about it. I still remember the time he accused me of cheating when I figured out an answer no one else had. He couldn't just say 'good job'. Others, (whose names will not be mentioned - not to be polite but because there are far too many to name) just assume I can't write well. They talk to me as if I don't know anything. I cannot for the life of me figure out why this is or why MANY people talk to me in this way.

Just because I choose not to use my writing skills at times when it’s not needed does not make me stupid. There is no need for me to write elegantly in my personal blog if I don't feel like. I'm not a show off. Yet, I can still write well. At the same time, I actually DO have a fairly extended vocabulary - but in every day conversation there is no need to use it. I admit straight out that I am not the best. Not by a long shot. But when you have something to say, and there is passion behind your writing it doesn't even matter.

I guess I'm writing this in a sorry attempt to shut up the people who always think they're better than me. They need to get over themselves and give credit where credit is due. One of my good friends pointed out that some people get overlooked, and these people usually seek approval for the things they know they are good at. It often times comes off as arrogance. You know what? Fine. I'm not good at much, but I CAN write god damn it.