What to do with life?

I have no idea what to do with my life.

I am artist. And because of the quality of my work and the artwork of my dead mother, most of my family and friends think that is where my future lies.  But as I already said in a previous post, my art has suffered from my mental stability.  I have no idea how to put what is intellectual into art, and even as I delve into the emotional world of human injustice, no images come to mind. 

For a long time my main goal was to become a doctor, and then later perhaps a surgeon.  This seemed the logical choice for someone with steady hands who wanted to save lives and change the world.  Create new lifesaving surgeries to revolutionize modern medicine.  Travel the world with Doctors Without Borders, ready to fix everything with a shiny scalpel.  Well my idealism in this pursuit has run out, I see a future of rules and guidelines limiting the very health of the patients I wish to serve, procedures I don’t believe in and a never ending see if red tape at every step.

Graduate research then?  I do love research.  But what about?  Most everything is fascinating to me, and I  truly do not know where it is I would do the most good.  Where would my talents and skills be best used?  How can I make the most impact?  How can I avoid handing over my research to those who will do evil with it?

One of my acquaintances recently posted an interesting status on her facebook, “if you want to know where your heart lies, look to where your mind wanders.”  I immediately began to assess my ever wandering brain and concluded the things it circles back to most often have to do with social injustice and corruption.  While her thought provoking status may have highlighted what I truly care about, I am once again left with questions.  How can I fight corruption and social injustice.  How do I make even a wave in the great ocean of sadness? 

Who am I and what am I really capable of?  Where is my place in this world?


Sickness and sadness

I am sick and I am sad.  The sick is just some terrible virus running through Purdue acting like mono.  But since PUSH didn’t test me for mono, because it is “too widespread,” that could be the culprit.  But I didn’t want to write about sickness, instead I am preoccupied by sadness.  What do I do with this sadness?  Numb it down with my favorite TV shows?  Cultivate it until I am forced to create something from the build up of immense sadness?  I have often commented on how my mental stability and happiness gets in the way of my art.  Sure I can paint little portraits of pets on some ornaments in order to make ends meat.  But to really create, you kind of vomit your emotions and the inspiration onto your medium.  It burns through you until you must get it out of you.  But this process is not very good for the emotional self, and in my pursuit of stability I have nearly abandoned the real art.  How the hell do I create with passion without sacrificing my mental integrity and overall well being? I haven’t the slightest idea.

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