art

I was driving back up to Oakland in the rain a couple days ago, thinking about art for some reason.
I was thinking about how I like to write, paint, create collages, build, and sculpt. I was thinking about a book I'm reading -- Flesh and Blood by Michael Cunningham.
There are so many books out there--so many good books--and I am such an average writer, that I have trouble imagining myself actually writing and publishing something that's worth the resources. And with art, there is such a depth of art that touches me so deeply--and so much that leaves me baffled or bored--and I am such a mediocre artist, that I can't imagine creating art that would say something that hasn't already been said more effectively by someone else. Call me a quitter or call me a slave to originality, and you'd be right. I had a friend in college who emailed me a quote from...I think it was from Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. Basically the point was that before globalization and mass media, genius was judged differently. Geniuses were mostly regional. But now, genius is judged on a global scale, and only the very top, very best are judged to be good. Now, someone who may have been a local genius is now working as a desk clerk somewhere, discouraged that his best efforts were met with indifference.
Maybe I need some reframing because I'm not a global genius. And it won't stop me from creating, especially not from writing, but I have to adjust my expectations.
So back to the driving in the rain thing. I was thinking about how much art there is in the world, how much music, images, words, and voices that have so much to tell us about the depth of the world and the complexity of existence. I was thinking about new forms of art, new forums and formats, new ways of communicating. I was thinking about the characters in "Flesh and Blood," about their inner worlds. And I'm thinking that maybe the best work of art is life itself. Ouch, that may have sounded cheesy, but hold on. Maybe the best way of communicating the depth and complexity of life is to live it with intention. Chaplain Jackson told me she believes God wants us to live disciplined lives. I say maybe not discipline, but intention. What if I develop my skills in mindfulness, awareness, and infusing my life with a sense of art, communication, and love? What if the clothes I wear, the words I use, the attention I bring, and all if it, aims to communicate my [changing, deepening] outlook on life?
Anyway, that's what I was thinking about, driving my pickup home in the rain.
For what it's worth.