I lost something

When I was in school, I was classified as the idealist.

I fought for and got angry over discussions about the purpose of art, or what can be called art. In a slug out match, across a large black conference table, I fought for the Tolstoy-ian ideal of art as being able to be anything and everything, as long as it creates that beautiful and fragile emotional like between artist and audience. Intent and Reception.

Down with Plato and Wilde, with their shallow and meaningless ties to aesthetics and beauty. Cynics the lot of them.

I thought we had the makings to start a new "-ism". To build an "-ism" in our own image and with our own ideals and morals. Where aesthetics and intention and life could walk hand in hand with success.

I lost something.

I have been thinking an awful lot these past couple of months about where I've gotten to, and what has led up to me sitting on my couch, in this 3rd floor apartment, in Houston Texas, listening to the Smiths (it's been that kind of day). What have I given up, passed over, or ignored to get to where I have gotten, and in the time I've gotten there.

This business demands success.

It demands success of it's people, and it demands success of it's product.

The pursuit of success has a funny way of blurring out the edges of everything else. Your time, your peace, your love, your money... I've been pretty quick the shelve every one of these things at some point to get to where I am today.

I think I'm just getting tired. My life has turned into a seemingly endless stream of opera. Which, to be fair, is exactly what I have been clawing and fighting my way towards for years.

But I miss the idealist.

I think I'm at a point now that need to... have to start un-shelving some things. Even if that means giving up some of that security that I have become so accustomed to.

I lost something.

Now I have to go and find it. And I apologize for the angsty-ness of what you just read. But like I said, it's been that kind of day.