The tragedy that happened with hard rock nick, and more recently with the liver king, are sobering, cautionary tales for anyone who deals with a reality warping mental illness. That level of delusion comes from anguish and self hatred that is so intolerable, the mind severs the connection to the real world. Unfortunently, that illusion is a time bomb. “Falling feels like flying till the bonecrush.” The offramp for these sorts of situations is always a cliffdive – how you handle yourself will determine the level of public humiliation, but internally it’s the same. Your self concept hits the ground and shatters into shards and dust. The only question is whether there is anything left with the strength to pick up the pieces and become something new – or do you take your physical body with it and end the pain you’ve been running from for so long.
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The last time I was at live figure drawing, there was a guy with an oil painting set up, but I could only see one canvas. “Oh, I just wipe it away when I finish one,” he said. Looking at the incredible impressionistic gesture painting that was moments away from the same fate, I wondered how many masterpieces died at birth on that canvas. A mandala in oil. It made me consider how precious I am with my own work – is it time to clear out the dead flowers? Theres a weightlessness that is terrifying and exhilerating when you “burn all the files, desert all your past lives”. Flying that feels like falling till you see how small the world you knew looks when you are finally free.
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