A gigantic wave of creativity is a sweet release from pain.
I do not eat, I do not sleep, I do not stop to rest. I am so in love with this new project, this compelling image in my brain, which I'm trying to put on canvas. Each stroke is so liberating, so gigantic and so maddening.
Gigantic madness is a form of coping with pain
Pain is a universal language, we all understand it. I try to avoid it, yet pain always finds its way back.
Nobody wants to hear about pain, yet it is always there.
We should never say I'm sorry for our pain. Yet I still feel guilty for sharing it with someone because I'm afraid my story may bring them down too.
Escape away. Dive deep into that book. Start a painting. Create a legacy of color. Shapes and shadows, figures and trees, these are the symbols of my tender existence.
Without this gigantic madness, I might not survive. Pain would shut me down. Yet somehow I have this imagination that transcends my agony.
Don't cry in front of anyone. Cry alone. Perhaps God will take pity on you.
Big sky holds the clouds of darkness and light. There is sorrow and shadow, with a glimmer of hope.
Madness is out-of-control creativity, a continuous raging rant runs into a brick wall and falls asleep.
Burn burn burn. Run that brain as high and hot as you can. Hyperconsciousness drives my vision on the canvas.
I paint big swaths of purple and blue, green and black. I hope this creative wave never washes on shore, because all I have to go back to is a sea of pain.
So let's hear praise for gigantic madness, maybe there is another Van Gogh painting in there.
I risked everything to capture this image. The journey through hell on the way to heaven is my reward.
As my creative energy slips away, I fall back down into the pit. How long must I be here before I can climb out?
When will I see my gigantic maddening friend again? Until then, I remember all of all those precious moments when I created the Sun, the Moon and the Stars.
--Michael Hooper
Dec. 30, 2021