Do you ever feel blue? (warning this one is kind of "different")

I had someone ask me this question the other day. I found it odd, first because it is highly metaphorical, therefore nearly impossible to answer, second because if I never felt "blue" I would consider myself odd. I am fairly comfortable acknowledging the fact that I have problems. I have yet to meet anyone without some kind of mental oddity and misbalance. If I did I would be highly suspicious that it was a cyborg or a wax figure with a speaker hidden cleverly inside. What does it mean to "be blue" anyway? When I am trying to deal with a customer in my (former shop) and someone goes into our restroom and steal the toilet paper, should I get happy? Should I dance a jig? Well maybe, depending on what I was doing when I realized the toilet paper was gone! Personally though I think that one of the best parts of life is the fact that things are out of our control a lot of the times. There are going to be good and terrible things which happen to all of us. And we are going to have feelings which stem from all of our experiences. Before I go any further I will note that the person who asked the question was a highly decorated psychiatrist. He was trying to diagnose me as depressed (my mom, who admittedly has anxiety and other similar issues was WORRIED that I might be!). I will admit, I was none too happy to be subjected to his boring and silly (in my opinion) line of questioning. In fact I feel that you cannot really get to understand what a person is feeling unless you have some kind of understanding of their background and circumstances. If I were to explain the crazy things that have been going on in my life in the last two years he would have had to sit talking to me for 6 days. If I tried to explain my life to him it would have been another 6 and then some. I am fairly introspective so I am very comfortable being unhappy (I am not glad about it, of course). But when I have a hard situation I would rather write songs, or talk to a friend than try to take some kind of pills that "evens out the highs and lows". Not that it does not work for some folks, but I don't live in that kind of extreme. At times I get caught up in working on projects and become very excited, and at times I cannot even sleep.

But one reason I work so hard is because I know as an artist several important things: First, and I am not trying to sound negative, but most people do not support you. It is common for people to say they like what you are doing, but for them to actually buy something is much more rare. I bet a lot of pictures get painted and people walk up to them, say they are nice paintings. Take out there camera's and take a picture, thus saving money. Then they might tell the artist he is a fool for working so hard at it. That said, a lot of bad artists are out there. I am not even sure that what I am writing right now is even useful or artistic at all. Luckily I have little thing called the internet, which is essentially a garbage dump so vast that anything and everything can find its little niche!
Second: In artistic endeavours it is easy to start something and never finish it. The projects I have been working on in the last couple years have been extremely high stakes. So I knew it would take all my concentration. I wanted to make sure that if I did anything at all that I would do it as completely and as perfectly as possible. And of course I failed in some areas and in some succeeded. One thing I am proud of is when people tell me that I have really done my homework. Because I have.
Third: Well when I said several reasons I thought I would figure out a third reason and justify it. Unfortunately I have reached the third reason and failed to develop a third reason. So I will just say that I like to do things as good as possibly can done. I do slack off at times, but I think it is normal to try and relax. When I was leading my band and doing other projects I was working full time, then practicing, writing, leading band practices, setting up shows, and still finding time to grow a garden, draw, etc. If you want to pursue these things you must be willing to sacrifice. Luckily I am thrifty and have always lived in relative comfort (except this last summer living in Forks WA).  And now I don't know where the piece is going and might have to insert a "hilarious dog video" from youtube in order to save it. because we all know that those videos are funny. Or I could video tape myself getting hit in the crotch. It would be great! Everyone wants to see the guy who looks like the Twilight guy get hit in the wee bits! Bring your friends, hide your children, ladies and gentlemen, the freak show has arrived! I am about to start writing poetry in order to save this boring piece!
By the way, the poem starts to rhyme at the end. I was rewriting a poem I wrote in 2004 or so, it was a rough draft. So forget it. I am going to bed!

Heart of Gold

I will give you anything he said
anything she breathed back
a husky sigh from parted lips
his deep blue eyes, hid
behind soft lids and silky lash
his voice her symphony
I know my love,
my life,
my lover
take me now to
the mountain top,
and give to me one thing,

They whirled away
to snowy peak,
the place their lips
first were one
they were one figure
now entwined
 a lovers knot
a fancy bow,

and now he said
what shall you have
my dove, my doe,
my everything?
Just give to me a heart
a heart of purest gold
A golden heart
which I may have
a sign of your pure love

My special love, my lady friend,
my only doll faced boo,
a golden heart yes you shall have
but only one not two

And so his pants he did unfurl,
and take his pork sword out
and he unleashed a steamy stream
and waved it all about

And in the snow at lovers feet
was a sign of love untold
yes in the snow at lovers feet
a heart of purest gold


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