What am I doing

What a horrible thing to think about.

What am I doing?
I can guess what it looks like to others.

There are so many ways to answer this question, so many moods that present ultimately the same end result - I do whatever because it makes me happy.
But that can't be right cause I'm sure there are ways to feel happy without making paintings or ceramic anythings. I could take things to make me happy, or eat things, or buy things. I could do nothing. but these don't make me happy so I guess that is why I don't do these things


I can say that I'm keeping myself busy until I die.

That's a morbid way to put it... but I do know I feel horribly miserable if I don't make paintings. If I don't feel busy, (entertained?), I fall into periods of feeling very lost and bored -> and that is no fun.

Because I'm psychotic. I like that, that sounds exciting, perhaps that is the best answer because I like it.

I would say that I'm looking to explore abstract expressionist paintings and the materials in ceramics provides a more interesting platform for experimentation, and that's a good reason , but why paint at all and not simply earn a plain life?
Because I wouldn't feel like I'm living.

That-sounds a bit sad too actually,

I would rather be content with the meaning I imbue into my life, than to question it. 
MY life means whatever I make it mean, so at the moment it is about making marks, moving paint, and experimenting with ceramics. 

Today I was asked what are you doing?. Why. Why. why, is making paintings what you do?  I take it seriously because I know I can't answer it and convince myself. It can be so Many reasons I make up, but when I listen to myself it's like an addict making excuses.
I'll find it one day. I'll find the confidence for an answer. 

But until then I'm going to publish my journal thoughts.