It's strange, and refreshing always to find that people get something out of visiting this space. As I receive the odd email, comment or private message once a blue moon or so, it's easy to discard these sentiments, rather believing that while encouraging and sincere, such responses, let alone visitors, are but a minority which passes along with the same blue moon. Sometimes though, while in the ownership of a clearer mind I'd realise how demeaning it is to undervalue these opinions, as well as my ability to garner them. Yet clarity drops by in short spans punctuated by painfully long absences, so I have grown to neglect the possibility that there are people that care, and paragraphs of introspection as this rarely manifest.

While it is noted that there are people who indeed care, it becomes almost imperative to ask why I do this - draw, paint, shoot, and write. Sometimes I'm led to believe that it's done to get attention because, it sure feels good to be noticed and appreciated. But that's just a byproduct; I can't, or rather I wouldn't want to think myself superficial enough to be wholly motivated by something so self-serving. Indeed that goes against the very reasons I give and the struggles I face in creating art. So considering the expressive nature of art, I probably do it - this - simply, to communicate, and to share. It could come consciously or subconsciously, though mostly only when out of the pits, and yes, when possessing clarity. It's just life's wont clutter of questions regarding self-worth, adequacy, existentialism and whatnot which inadvertently present the hindrance to this want for sharing.

I've avoided a for the past months from posting (here, there have surely been other avenues of outlet) about my life in national service due exactly to this clutter. There's no peace to be found riding on the waves of anger, and believe me there is a lot of it. But that's a whole other matter really. It is my hope that the absence of thought will disappear for a long while, and with it, my absence from here.