Went to bed at 04:10 - it's still light at that time of the day. I went out and saw Venus shining brightly in the pre-dawn blues. It's an incredibly peaceful and optimistic time of the day.

Nature really does keep some of the best sights, sounds and feelings for obscure places and times and you have no choice but to skew your clock to see these "other things". I don't mean to sound sagey or have a cure-all for artistic block, when I say that this kind of thing can provide real inspiration, thought it's often at the price of tiredness after the event. There's a real kind of recalibration or perhaps better described as a realignment of the soul and the Earth by watching the night turn to day. I'm terrible at doing it, but doing Yoga or other quiet, movement-centric exercise to the light of the rising sun is wholly reinvigorating.

A couple of summers ago, I found myself staying awake through the night. Tiredness can be flimsy if you're in the right mood and circumstances permit. On this occasion, I decided to commune with the water and went skinny-dipping at just gone four in the morning. Of course the fresh water's quite cold, but I found that I quickly adjusted and immersed myself in the water, the experience and in the feelings that you feel. If you're thinking that there's nothing special about skinny-dipping, then I'd agree - but point out that there's two ways of doing it; when it's quiet and when you're in a noisy, fun-loving group. The former's much more satisfying.

So, back to today. I was woken by the phone ringing, which isn't a great way to fall out of a dream. I don't know how many hours sleep I got in the end. Four or five maybe.

Over the last week, I've learned a lot about art and I feel more understanding of it and how, I think, I can and even should, fit in with it.

The summary of many hours of recent thought are that I feel frustrated and mildly appalled at being presented nothing but uninspiring careers when I was at school. It was confusing. As well as being herded through an education "system" - which I feel was designed to do nothing more than produce the Floyd-esque legions of hammer like citizens, I was also pursuing my own aspirations to be a pilot.

One of my most prized books is Zen and the Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance. [link] For those who haven't read it, Pirsig makes a case that schools are not much more than holding pens for adults - who in truth, don't want to spend their time with their children, for whatever reason. The parents willingly hand over their child to be "educated" in every respect. Beyond school, for most, are the expectant lives of commerce. Pirsig describes office buildings as "life-sucking" - for all that goes on within them, their purpose; They are the cause and the effects are all too commonly felt. We're not suited to living in concrete blocks with flickering lights, stale air and stale ideas for the mind to be immersed in.

The disinformation, the lies and the limitations told by, and the grey lives expected from, state education - they never really suited me. For some reason, now, the gap between how I feel and what I now know of myself, and these educational follies has never seemed wider or more obvious.

The lies and disinformation started early. For many years as a teenager, I took the serious path towards being a pilot. I flew a lot - piloting powered aircraft and gliders, as well as being the passenger in numerous RAF flights. It wasn't until a chance encounter with an ejector-seat packer that the truth came to light. When asked what the choice of careers for those within my group of air cadets, I responded "pilot". He smiled and dismissed me with a "you're too tall".

I was, aged 16, 6'1" - with more growing to come. Shocked, I asked him what he meant. He told me that in the event of ejection, I'd have both legs severed at the knees, as I left the cockpit at a more upright than back angle of escape. The next time I was in the RAF careers office, I relayed what had been said, and 5-10 minutes later, someone came down and confirmed that what I'd been told was true. Why had they lied? This was the proud RAF - the armed forces of the proud United Kingdom. How could they shatter my dreams so casually?

In the event, I was offered alternatives of becoming either a transport or a rotary-wing (helicopter) pilot, which I arrogantly dismissed. They then offered me a bunker based job of communications interception and decryption, which of course I refused. In truth, I had the attitude of "it's either fast-jets or nothing at all".

This is where the lies and my contempt for all things official began. I see it now. Pirsig reinforced the theory, filling spaces in my head and in human truth that hadn't really occurred to me. These days, I see the academic channeling towards anything but art or creativity and I resent it.

Of course, I like pretty much all pupils, went to art lessons - but I never really connected to it. I cam remember other traitional subjects such as music and drama, but they never bonded with me either - though it seems a pretty comprehensive reversal (or maybe it's just a late epiphany) in respect of my true instincts and interests today. People change as well.

When I first investigated my own astrology chart, nearly 20 years ago, there was an apparently huge well of creativity for me to tap into - but that made no sense to me at the time either. At the time, I'd spent the majority of my working life as an engineer on oil rigs - which I feel was a fluke in itself. I was just looking for work and found a well paid job advertised, which I applied for and got. I could equally have continued working as a baker, I suppose, but the point is that there was no direction.

These days, I am only interested in creativity, in whatever it's form, and by whatever artist and in whatever field that takes my fancy. Being cynical and occasionally having extended bouts of misanthropy, I find it increasingly difficult to tolerate business, commerce and even mankind's sprint into self-prescribed oblivion. It's absolutely anti-societal (but tinged with anti-social pigments too).

It's a fight to want to fight, but there's an inevitability of strong logic waiting at pretty much every turn.

So, having established the underpinnings of my rejections, I've been gorging on Art.

Amongst my portions of my feast, I learned about the Riace Bronzes [link] - and in doing so, learned much about the hard-wired Art truths which motivate us and explain so much about why we like what we like.

I also saw a piece on David LaChapelle [link] and a really interesting documentary of Cindy Sherman [link]

Forgive me if this all sounds pompous or high-brow. It's not intended to be like that. I feel that I'm just "getting" Art in a big way and more than I ever have done previously.

Enough Art crap.

I've made an effort to switch to a much healthier diet - with lots and lots of organic rice and vegetarian food. I indulged in milk and cereals a few days ago and felt horrid inside. Ditch the sweets and the crap and take it slowly, cooking simple, tasty foods. (I admit that I can't eliminate chocolate - it's too perfect for my body to refuse)!

As far as dA goes, it's been generally quiet, though I continue to find talented, capable and friendly new artists.

Did anyone see the dA poll asking about age? I felt old. Stats said that 4 out of 5 here are still in education, so at 43, I feel like a bit of an old man - but hey ho.

Sleep, well, I'm trying.

Right, I think I've waffled on excessively. I'll try and moderate these journals down a bit.

Thank you for reading.

Please pay some of these devs a visit and show some love.



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