where did it go? how does it happen? one moment I can not work enough, cannot work fast enough to get down every bit of inspiration, every bit of vision, thought, emotion, into a work of art... the next moment I cannot work at all. I think that I have an idea, a vision, and I go about bring it to life, but somehow the life never comes. it strikes me that it is much like creating Frankenstein's monster. instead of having Frankenstein's scientific method, however, I have only the mystery of how this thing called art happens, and then doesn't happen.
it's a strange life.