A Day in the Life of a Thousand Years.

My day starts late - around 4pm in the afternoon. I head to my cafe haunt, say hello to everyone, and set up my sketchbook to work. It's outside, on the street, where I can feel the world moving around me, and someone else makes the coffee. I put my headphones on with whatever music is the emotional theme I'm using for the work, and I get into it.

There's a shift from real time and space into the creative zone - while I'm working, I'm still semi-aware of my surroundings, but what I'm really looking for is when everything blends together, in focus, and I can feel myself in total tune with the artistic process.
Even with the music and the cars and the organized chaos of the town, there's a stillness to be found in the center of it all - that's where I want to be while I work, using the energy around me to gain that sense of layers; like moving in a whirlpool, but not being dragged down, just aware of the core experience and the vision, and what I'm looking to achieve with the art. Emotion, thought, imagination and sensory depth become one - everything has a clarity that becomes the central source of the artwork. Total creativity, invention and being. It's a magic moment, everything is simultaneous and I'm a thousand years away, a thousand miles away, and right here, all at once.
And then someone comes over to talk about the problems that they're having with their boyfriend's mother.
Hmm.