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| Peleus and Thetis, the parents of Achilles |
Written on 20th of November, 2014
The art, in most cases, feeds on unhappiness....artists are so unhappy, that they create the masterpieces which bleed with sublime feelings they experienced.
And here is my dilemma:
I cannot work when I am unhappy. I live my unhappiness, analyze it, feel it, and cannot work, cannot do anything...I am "la petite bourgeoise" in many ways. In my everyday life everything has to be balanced: my house has to be spotless, otherwise I become very nervous, my children happy and clean, Maria happy, and of course I cannot forget the man I love. He is my only connection with the real world: a messenger of reality, a walking wisdom with great sense of humor and abdominal muscles any Ancient Spartan would be proud of... I love being married to him, taking care of him...spoil him...
This is also very untypical for an artist, because, artists usually grow their EGO to the point that nobody else fits in the space near by ...So artists are usually getting married for a five minutes, and then say to the world that they made mistake...It wasn't the person they were looking for, they were looking for someone who would admire them all the time, and they found a person who dared to be a person...
Artists don't like marriages that much, so in this regard, I am also not typical, I do like being married....It is this Greek thing I have...We, Greeks, we love to immerse ourselves in deep unlimited togetherness, and taste another Greek soul again and again...
But... there were some artist who enjoyed marriage and did not have any problems to create masterpieces. Not all the artists were sick, alone and dying in poverty, like Modigliani. Johann Sebastian Bach was quite happy in his marriage, so was the great poet Pablo Neruda. He had written the most beautiful love sonnets in the end of his life and an inspiration for them was his wife....
So when my home is clean and everybody is content, I can close the doors of my Studio and move to the space nobody visits, the space of my work. Sometimes I even remember the poems of Neruda, a poet who wrote masterpieces when he was happy...
