The inspirational energy of depression

.

O me! O life!
Of these questions
Of these recurring,
Of the endless trains
of the faithless,
of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever
reaproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
....


This is from a poem by Walt Whitman. I will not delay with the full transcription of such a  fine poem that seems to be a work inspired
 in doubts for life. 
Doubts that seem to be reminiscent of a sort of pain.
Sketches of pain can sometimes be used to express such beauty that transcends reason and borders on the 
fine colours of emotion.
At times, during my youth it was common for me to be depressed because I would love someone that would not love me back, or if somebody said something bad about me just to make me feel guilty for the choices I made here or there.
I remember quite vividly of having long faces followed by huge depressions-wannabes.
The funny thing was, that during those days I was able to express my creativity in ways that most of the times I couldn't.


 
 
Much like Whitman with some of his darker work, probably a result of well channeled pain into inspiration.
This is the trouble that afflicts much people these days. The frozen of the mind due to a swelling of the heart. Painful as some of life's events may be, one can use that negative side to our advantadge, to our expression.
People are different all over, but they do obey to the same common rules when it comes to function of reason and emotion. The complex process differs of course, but in the end, we respond to love, pain, joy, infortune, and so many others.
if your joy and gay, perform a merry dance, draw a joyful painting, sing a song... whatever you do, express yourself. for the joy of being happy is as precious as life can be.
However, to understand the deepness of sadness is an art in itself... one that can only be mastered when you've suffered once. Beautiful works have been produced throught the ages due to great depressions.
The point I want to emphasize is that you can enjoy (later on) the prodigal son, in its art form, of your so called chaos of balance.
Looking forward to see, hear or read the works of ye depressed, that do not know the power of creation that lurks in the shadows of any given tear-drop.


mamuts@gmail.com