self expression and late night art

i need an outlet for self expression.

sometimes i find it in physical actions. sometimes i feel that what i do on the mat is a form of expression. all the movement, the exertion, the way you kicked a target, all of that was YOU. i guess that's what they mean by expression of ki. taekwondo, although a combat sport, is a cousin to dance. sparring can be beautiful, and it can be ugly. but in the end, it helps you express your need to accomplish something physical, and your need to take that risk between winning and losing.

sure, there are other conventional forms of expression. photography, for one. i find it less mystical, maybe because i'm just not good at it. i havent come to understand how to express one's soul in a picture, because all i can do is take pictures to reflect what's on the surface. to find a meaningful shot i would have to take pictures of everything, then understand what i have never shot before.

and as for music, i used to do it alot. i played years of classical, but again it was always copying the masters, learning what already existed and playing exactly the style i picked up from the recordings. sure i played poignantly, and my teacher and fellow students' mothers lauded my unique talent for expression. but it wasnt me expressing myself, it was beethoven and chopin being brought back alive, somewhat, in my talented hands. but they were only talented to the end of the page. when the bars stopped i stopped.

only when you excel at something that puts you at the edge, then that's when you're finding your form of expression. otherwise, you're just following the envelope, and you'll always be copying others. but pushing the envelop means you're doing something you can't stop thinking about. when constantly, every day you are thinking about the next time you could do something. and you mold your weekly goals around getting to that point, and you think about how to make that point even better when it happens.

i realized that my newest form of self expression is the saturday night party.

it's something i find myself panicking and stressing over early saturday afternoons. but it's not like a competition between me, martha stewart and paula dean. at 1:35, the vibe of the party determines the success of the artist. soon, when the last saferide is set to come, that's when the my judgment happens. when i'm in the groove, that moment comes and goes without meaning. and throughout the night i would expression myself through the drinks that i make and take, the conversations i stumble through, and the drunken food i consume. and like good art, it must be ephemeral, and be gone in the morning.