Artists are artists because they have a knack of feeling ‘more’.
How human mind dissects a situation may differ (even for artists). But because their threshold is much higher than normal, they feel more, emote more, express more and sometimes cry more.
A normal news to us or an ever so worldly tv show is very evocative. It makes us cry, laugh, depressed, or rejuvenated. It’s difficult to understand us. Being one like him, I heard his plea for help when he wrote a message on one of the online community that we are both a part of.
He wrote, "Help me!"
Hope he is alright. As all you other artists are. We have a very short life. There is a story in each one of us. The more we live and suffer, better we are at storytelling.
I feel that Jhon Keats, Sylvia Plath, Robin Williams, Freddy Mercury, Ernest Hemmingway or Perry Moore would have been able to do more had they not been gone. They had mysteries to discover. Many stories to reveal. Infinite beauty to create. Yet, the sudden stroke of death took them away. With them gone, their talents vanished.
Left behind are crumbs of possibilities- the genius of their talent in shards.
Dear, fellow artists fight this hopelessness. Fight this pain. We are a community. Technology has made our world smaller and you will find a compatriot.
Don’t give up. We will make this world better. Let's strive to stay alive. We have to fight with our swords of creativity for as long as we can. Let's stand together and as one.