I do not consider myself as an artist.
I just do. I create.
I see, and then I feel, and then I do. And what I do is what I am. As
far as I can tell. It defines me, somehow.
Most of the times, I listen. Music is one big inspiring part of my life.
The sound. Some lyrics. Stuck in my head. I feel the need to make
visible what it makes me feel.
Besides this, I live. I like to suffer. If I do, I am creative. My head
is just spinning and there is this big chaos of sentences and pictures
in my mind, wanting to come out.
Sometimes I think, I'm not an artist, so I should stop doing what I do.
Sometimes I think I'm just a worker, putting things together.
But when people tell me, I'd have a nice "hobby", I get angry and upset.
That's when I realise, that I AM an artist and that what I do IS ART and
not just some decoration stuff.
So I feel the drive and I use all energy and I work for days not
realising the hours passing by, not hearing the phone ring, not feeling
any need to do anything else than what I'm doing. Creating.
I draw. I paint. I sew. I take pictures. I keep on working with what
I'm never done. I'm never satisfied. I'm rarely happy with what I do,
because I always feel like I could have done better, like I could do
All these things in my mind... Sometimes I think they are the reason for
some headaches I'm suffering from. Sometimes I wish I was of very low
intelligence so my head would probably not work all the time.
There is this other ache in my chest. It's a kind of pressure and it's
burning, so I understand people talking about the fire inside. This fire
must be this thing called 'passion'.
Passion is what I refer my work to. It's what keeps me going,
it's what won't let me sleep. It's what gets me up late at night, makes
me take a piece of paper and sketch and write.
I just try to work with my own chaos. To do what I'm doing. To create.
(2008) - Manipulated Photography, by Manuela Müller