POEM: Suffering Artists

I heard that
Artists are supposed to suffer
For their
No matter how hard
Beaten
Their head against a wall
So trying
I have failed
Miserably
Only finding my
Adore
I am through
And not
Well
Done

I am not much into .  Of course, some may not consider my a truly devoted artist.  Anyone who knows me knows that I have an ascetic streak.  My of and for drive such asceticism.  Also, I have a level of from many hedonistic pleasures where I can enjoy such experiences without unduly relying upon them (see guacamole).  Surely, brings with it enough and pain that we never ought to seek it out!  As I like to say: just because you can learn something from being hit across the face with a 2-by-4 is no reason for hitting people across the face with a 2-by-4!  I consider the so-called intrinsic in the creative artistic process as a form of that is not fully under .  This process is analogous to , in which the sickness and the cure are one.  Experiencing , like , demands something from us.  Inasmuch as we are , this can bring .  Yet, inasmuch as enhances our response-ability, grows deeper and richer.  This is adore in which we are never through…

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