And not in the sense of me getting in deeper touch with some sort of higher being or whisked off into an enlightened state. It’s more like I’ve come to this weird spiritual hunger that I can’t seem to satisfy.
And when I think of how to satisfy it, I think back to my recent trip to Disneyland and how the entire time, I felt absolutely other worldly. I think me and Walt’s historic stomping grounds have a strange connection that just fills me to the brim with happiness and complete satisfaction. It’s like, if I could carve a niche into Disneyland and live there with the amazing architecture, vision, technology, and most importantly, the magic of it all, I wouldn’t need anything else. I could just be completely and totally happy.
And then, I look at art. And I just watch animated short after animated short. And the more I do, the more I just want to strip off the ties I have to my life on Hawaii and just start anew, doodling caricatures of animals and ingesting large amounts of animated material. Maybe I’ve been bitten by the adventure bug and the only cure is to travel. Just to get out.
And I’ll bring Kiba. He’ll ride shotgun on my bicycle as we pedal across the U.S, listening to Best Coast and napping under trees.
Or maybe, I can just build a teeter-totter excuse of a studio and draw and draw and draw until I can’t any longer.
I’m just a raging tornado of chaos and destruction.
I wonder why? Is it a personality thing? Am I just a chaotic person by nature?
I land in Hawaii and I’m just a mess of everything being pushed onto me again and I just feel like I can’t handle it and I’m gonna explode and I wanna go back to the West Coast because the weather is cold and nature is so kind to me and the trees and the deers don’t judge me.