Artistic Insanity

As a writer, I often find myself engaged in behaviors that would be cause for alarm in any other profession. Artists are allowed to explore levels of obsession an other forms of insanity that no one else is trusted to. The other day, I spent about an hour researching grammatical structure of an essentially dead language, in order to name a fictional horse. Yup.

Currently, I'm trying to recall the last time I actually set foot outside my cave. I've gone out on my porch to water my plants, but it's been probably two weeks since I've actually been in the world. I sketch people who don't exist. There are semi-intelligible notes taped to my walls. I stare at them muttering that there must be some connection.

Totally normal.

I truly cannot fathom what the government must think of me if they're watching my internet browsing habits. I spend large portions of my day researching various horrific injuries, mythical beasts, obscure religious factions, and ridiculous weaponry. Side note, if you find yourself wanting to know more about the history of corset styles through Europe, go to the library. Google gives you an unnerving combination of nudity and body mutilation, complete with anatomical diagrams.

Even my workspace should raise a few eyebrows. Moving from left to right, I have: printouts of 14th century historical text (including some of the most graphic descriptions of bubonic plague); a pile of Celtic knot designs; not one, but two Gaelic dictionaries; a book of Nordic Rune meanings, a nail file; Bioshock 2; the hard copy of the current draft; a never-empty coffee pot; and the Necronomicon.

That would be the Higgins Armory Museum site's Viking combat videos.

I'm doing my best to stay sane by interspersing other projects into my day. That's partially where the video at the top of this entry came from. I've also been knitting and taking breaks to read. However, if my goal is sanity, maybe I should be reading someone other than Christopher Moore, as humorous as he may be.