If it’s after 10pm, and a post is rambling, not infrequently I’m indulging my fondness for Kentucky bourbon. I’m fully equal to the task of rationalizing it, but the simple net reality is that I enjoy it, so I do it.
I will add that at one time in my life I thought alcohol or drugs made you creative. They don’t.
Creation is risk taking. It is having the courage to follow a path whose end you can’t see, well into the darkness, and over the proverbial ridge. I think the most creative people can see how they could go mad, but most don’t. There is a line of balance you learn to walk, between the formed and the formless.
For me, alcohol serves to remedy the emotional pain I feel sometimes in walking out into the darkness alone. I’m not immune to fear, or self pity, or loneliness, or confusion. Yet I ignore all those things when it’s time to explore, and pay the price. Booze brings the account back into balance, for me.
I prefer to avoid autobiography, but I felt this point worth making.