deep and short thoughts on crazed passions

it just dawned on me that art making and backpacking are similar at times. in the midst of both, sometimes i stop and wonder why the hell am i doing this to myself,

like when you find yourself in the fetal position on a piece of chip board in the middle of your studio, mumbling, "noooooooo" because you've broken 15 pieces of glass trying to do your own framing (totally made up scenario. never happened to me)

or when you're screaming into the windy and foggy void with a thrashing trash bag in hand on top of Clingman's Dome (benjamin rucker),

but you keep doing it because you're crazy and you can't stop... i guess this could apply to anything one is passionate about...

i am passionate right now about art and i'm pretty ticked at it, too. it's killing me. but i'll keep doing it until my hands give out.

and with these thoughts, i bid you a goodnight.

goodnight