I briefly mentioned some work I was doing for a local music festival, and unfortunately, that music festival has been cancelled for this year.

Due to a certain councillor who managed to be more sloth like than I am, by the time council approved the permit, there was just not enough time for the festival organiser to negotiate with bands, marketing, and so on.

I was really amped for this festival, the concepts developed nicely, and came to a point of finalisation - and hey, they looked pretty cool, too.

Having my art at the forefront of a rock festival was more than I could have wanted, I mean, how sweet is that? It would’ve been great publicity for my own work. But unfortunately, that’s not going to happen. Meh.

I had fun doing the concepts and everything else, so it wasn’t too bad. Maybe next year?

I’m angry. I’m angry at everyone, and everything.

Why? I really wish I knew.

Over the past few months I’ve been on a rollercoaster, happy, then depressed, and back again. But it’s not real happiness, it’s a burst of energy, a sensation that causes me to “bounce”. I come across as cheery, and maybe a little hyperactive in my speech, but then I crash.

Not unusual, I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before, and while it pisses me off, I tend to cope.

Now, though… I feel like I’m starting to sink into a part of my life I don’t even want to think about, let alone repeat. I don’t know why I’m angry, and I don’t know who I’m angry towards.

My angry years were plain shit. I did very stupid things, I lashed out at people who I cared most about, I put holes in more than my fair share of doors… I was trying to seek help, but I didn’t know how to ask for it, or how to explain. I was very unhappy, and I made a lot of mistakes.

I’m worried. The people who knew me during those years probably don’t want to see me that way again, and my words fail to adequately describe what it was like.

I’ve been trying to find a new psychiatrist, as my regular psychiatrist no longer practices nearby (he’s atleast an hour away by car), and it has become futile. So many psychiatrists don’t bulk bill anymore. And I certainly can’t afford the hourly rate they charge.

Things better start looking up.. I’m tired of feeling the way that I do.

What is it about nostalgia that keeps us hooked?

It’s a bit of a silly question, really, as I can think of an answer.

We yearn for those times, way back when, and we want to relive them - to be happy, to be successful, it matters not. But can nostalgia be a bad thing? Does it cloud our minds, and alter how we see a situation? I mean, that’s why they’re fond memories.

I don’t think nostalgia can apply to a bad situation, no one wants to relive the shit that they may have lived through.

But what if nostalgia, on a greater whole, skews our perception and we forget that, “yes, those were shit times”?

I’m probably rambling, well, it is nearly six in the morning! But it’s something I’ve been asking myself, as one does when pondering. I’ve been thinking of my past, both recent and not so. I yearn for the days of my childhood, and later, my teen years.

Honestly, though? They were shit. Not everything, however. I had fun, I met a lot of cool people that I still keep in touch with by whatever means possible. But they were bad years, really bad. As a person, I was an absolute mess. I know that people say it’s normal to go through such things, but I don’t think so. There’s teen angst, and then there’s just fucked up.

I guess I want another chance, to give it all another shot with added hindsight. Now that is common.

Some things, however, are a lost cause - but when do you decide the time is right to cut your losses?

I’ve been working on the festival concepts, and I’m glad that it’s getting, albeit slowly, to a point of finalisation.

Things should be good, they should be great actually. I’m doing what I love, for something that could very well promote my art. But, as usual, I’ve hit a down slope.

Yeah, most people hit a down slope, they feel stressed, anxious and generally just shit. I keep riding an emotional rollercoaster of ups and downs with a frequency that scares me.

I was on such a high (figuratively speaking), life was great. Now I’m just feeling down, and for a change, I’m actually worried about my health. I definitely need to see someone about this, which means off to my GP for a psych referral. Long story short, my psych has moved his practice to Kilmore - which is way too far to get to from where I am.

To be honest, I’m not even sure I’ve been taking my medication regularly. I think I am, but things have been so hectic that I can’t be certain.

I’ve been thinking really stupid shit, things like stepping out infront of a bus, or taking a swan dive off something high up. But then I start to feel guilty, especially when I think of my parents. Being an only child, I really can’t do that to them. I don’t want to put them in a situation where they have to deal with me being hurt, or whatever. Which just makes me feel even shittier.

I need to open up to a friend, or even to my parents, but it’s always the same. When I have the chance to do so, I don’t. I shrug it off, or I can’t articulate how I feel, and most importantly what is causing me to feel the way that I do.

It’s really stupid.

I need some sort of distraction, something to take my mind off things. I used to have that escape when I was a teen. I’d get drunk, or high, and everything would be peachy-keen. As I got older, it all stopped having that effect, and I would just end up feeling worse. Part of the reason I’ve stopped that sort of thing. I still drink, yes, but mainly in moderation.

So what to do? Soldier on, I suppose. But like the work for the festival, what I want emotionally is some sort of finalisation - an end to the rollercoaster, some sort of plateu where I can just be okay, not great, not down, just fine.

I haven’t written in a while… Again.

And here I am, about to excuse myself for not writing… Again.

Things, however, are looking good.

A friend of mine recommended me for a design job for an upcoming music festival, The Back Road Music Festival. While it’s only on in October, the art work needs to be done as soon as possible, so I have been diligently working on the designs for the festival.

It has been great. I love getting my head stuck into doing some art, whether personal or otherwise. So I’ve been somewhat busy. Busy, but happy.

The festival itself should be great! I can’t wait to see how it goes.

I dream, I guess. It’s not often that I actually dream and remember, even fleetingly, of what that dream is about.

But over the weekend, I had a dream, a common theme for me when I’m having a nightmare. Night terror to the psychology students out there.

In my dream, I was laying in bed dreaming such an awful dream, and I was desperately trying to wake up but unable to. I shouted, I screamed, I thrashed and bashed at the walls. But it was all in vain, as when I just thought that I was awake, I would find that I was still asleep.

I kept taking off my CPAP mask, only to find it back on the moment it was off my face. I couldn’t turn the lights on, even though I was flicking the switch repeatedly.

It was odd, to say the least. But a common theme for me.

Luckily, I didn’t decide to bite myself in hopes that the pain would wake me. I’ve done that before, and admittedly, it works. So if you’re having a nightmare, kiddies. Bite yourself.

On a lighter note, the following day real life was actually an RPG.

I had just killed a mob, and began to raid their fridge. You see, even though it was a computer game, what you looted was actually real. So there I was sorting through all of the things within the fridge when along comes my dad, and he points to the bread.

“That looks good. You should take it.”

So that I did, and then I woke up.

You see, dad has been baking bread for the last few months. It’s his new hobby, and he is actually pretty damn good at it.

But man… Our minds really come up with some fucked up shit.

I wouldn’t mind finding out what these dreams mean, but I don’t even know where to begin.

I haven’t written in a while, and I would like to say that I’ve been incredibly busy, doing extraordinary things - but that would be a blatant lie.

I’ve just been plodding along. Nicely, though.

At the moment I have three paintings in process, two of which are half-way there, and one that’s just beyond started. I’ve been working a lot with oils, more so now than when I first used the medium.

Lisa likes to joke (nah, she probably means it) that I enjoy painting with oils because it takes forever to dry, but I’m not that lazy! I do love working with oil paint though.

Acrylic is nice if you want to knock out a piece in the space of a few hours. However, oil paint has so many advantages. It’s thick and chunky, adding real texture to a painting with its well defined brushstrokes, and mixing colours is just pure awesome(tm). Since it takes so long to dry, you can keep applying different colours which create varying shades.

There are advantages and disadvantages with both mediums, but I’m really enjoying oils.

I can’t remember if I mentioned my plans for this year on my blog, but I had expressed interest for an illustration short course at NMIT. After many months of waiting I was given more information - the course was going to cost roughly $800! It doesn’t seem like much, but this is for 16 three hour sessions. Compare that to a year long course at about $250 (government concessions included). Suffice it to say, the course isn’t going ahead as there wasn’t enough interest.

It’s a shame… I wanted to pick up a few tricks here and there.

I saw Anthony and Nicole today, and was able to ask about Devenish. From what they told me, it seems that Devenish was spared, and some of the other towns around it.

It’s a relief, not only did Nicole’s family keep the house they have there, but many more families were able to continue living a normal life, unlike the people who have lost family, friends, and property.

I was going to write about my weekend, but honestly, it’s trivial shit compared to the stark reality of what’s going on in Victoria.

I had an awesome weekend, if a little scary. But this weekend is probably the worst weekend in history for many families.

All over Victoria, fires have been raging. Burning down homes, killing people, and destroying lives.

So far there has been an estimated 65 deaths, with more expected. Towns have been burned to the ground.

If some of these fires were deliberate, I hope they catch the bastards and hang them, lynch mob style. I remember reading a book on the profiling of serial criminals. Serial arsonists get a power trip out of setting fires, they sit and wait for emergency teams to show up, and get off on the control.

Anthony, Nicole, her parents and myself were unsure if we could get out of Devenish today. There were reports that the Hume highway had been blocked, and really, that was our only way home. We could have taken back roads into Melbourne, but it could have been futile.

Our plan was to head down the Hume anyway, and see if we could get through. Some time into our trip, the radio announced that the Hume had been re-opened. It was such a relief.

My heart goes out to everyone affected by the fires here in Victoria, and to those affected by the flooding in Queensland.

I’ve added a few digital pieces to the digital art gallery.

I’m also thinking about adding some notes to the works I’ve created, but I’m not too sure whether I’ll implement that. I’ll have to see if it looks okay, or whether it turns the gallery into a busy mess.

Enjoy!