Creative Moments

There were moments in my pre-teens when I was creative, that later resurfaced between the ages of 20 and 25, after which they disappeared when I was fully sucked into the demands of modern life, the zombifying indoctrination of slogans on the banal conveyor belt through the system. Eventually, worn-out and disillusioned, I became acutely aware of my mortality. I realised that if I could die at any moment, then I should at least try to download an expression of the thoughts and impulses within me. It didn’t matter if anyone else saw them; at least my existence had contributed something to the vast database of humanity. As it happened, though, I found real enjoyment in these creative moments, and I was brought back to life. Over the subsequent years, I have been improving with the consistent doing of what interests me. I’m very fit and healthy and, if fortunate, could have decades of enjoying with others the shapes and sounds that may form.