Something Inside

I been reading a book titled Darkley Dreaming Dexter, it's from the TV series called Dexter. In this the reader is treated to a first person perspective of the dark devil who lies within Dexter and how this Devil's thirst is satisfied. In quite a moralistic way, he is an unlikely 21st century hero. Like the TV series the book reads as a continuing narrative and is quite entertaining. I'm enjoying it.

What it makes me think of is the elusive trait of motivation. How this thing is difficult to find. But how on other occasions it is a complete mind set, a devil lying within with a purpose, and in the right circumstances pretty useful. I think of the time I had spent going to evening classes and the years past in gaining additional education. How it was my persevering devil who strode against the odds. As time passes attendees to classes would drop. Near the end of an academic year the class of 30 plus is down to 10 or less.

I consider Long Haired boy, and wonder what could motivate him. If there is anything other than Art. Art is OK, don't get me wrong, but the reality of this world is, Art is an easy opt out for anyone who can't do anything else. Because at heart we each and everyone of us are artists. To me Art is a common thing and only extra ordinary people actually get anywhere in life making it a living. Art in the pure sense of the word, not may I add as an interior designer for example. So it can be useful, but only if it leads on to something else.

So although I like Art my thoughts of it as providing a career or bread and butter are somewhat circumspect. Tracey Emin and her alleged pieces of work turn the world upside down, because she actually gets money for them. I know I can do just as well as her, I could ring up a gallery and ask them if they want my unmade bed. Even say I puked in it and had the flu pretty bad, which I'm sure would add to the value. Unfortunately my name's not Tracey. Yes, she's an artist, a con artist at that. The rest of us who see her stuff as art well, you have to ask of the children's story. The one where a king is in his-altogether. Was he in his-altogether? Now have a look at her unmade bed and seriously convince the world it is art.

The thing which lives inside comes out when there is an insatiable desire needing met. Dexter's is the homicide of homicidal maniacs, mine was for a while improving my own education. If only I could light a match an begin an incandescent flame for Long Haired boy. Incite his desire, his motivation, see a different side to him, one where he shines and his very presence inspires the rest of us. Perhaps I ask too much. Perhaps I ask to see the passion. For the dweller who lives inside is the epitome of passion, they sit side by side, eat similar foods and if true persevere till their thirst is satisfied.