The only thing that gets me every time as an artist is when you walk in into your new working space. It can be an old theatre venue or a nowhere stage, it doesn’t matter; by the time you’re wondering around, you start to get used to the backstage, the rehearsals and the usual rhythm of bringing words on paper to life. This is what creativity feels like. Bringing light into a new perspective, connecting with an audience and provoking versatile opinions. It feels like it’s more than art itself. It’s an ultimatum. It’s unique.
The greyness of London reminds me why everyone keeps up with such high pace. I believe if you stop for a second in a metropolis like this one you’ll be devoured by a huge hole of emptiness where bitterness resigns. If I could describe this city in one word it would be “proactive-in-ecstasy” (because even tough it’s killing you, we still do it). We run to work, we go home to some frozen food, we consume media we don’t need, we stay vibrant in an environment that swallows the art of mesmerizing. “this is it”, they say. I don’t agree. I keep saying over and over to my self-conscious-survival-instinct: “if everything goes to shit, let’s move somewhere new and hate all of it all over again”. The truth is “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.”; and life it’s a funny ping-pong game between these silver linings.