Need

I am at a loss and words can not describe the place I am in. In the past, I would simple strip down and pull out my paints and canvas, head down to the studio to throw some clay, or grab my old Pentax and head somewhere unique and do a little photography, just to work out this odd emptiness. I settled for climbing up in the attic, and digging through my packed boxes of thrown pottery. My art has been hidden for 3 years, and it was a welcoming sight. It is amazing to me that the changes in my life have yet to diminish the need to create. I feel empty and bottled up all at the same time. Without a real outlet to ebb that instinct, I feel trapped, dissatisfied. Although seeing my work, holding it in my (now grubby) hands helps, it still does not quiet the restrained bohemian in me.