Thoughts of a Bohemian

"As a kid I quite fancied the romantic, Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgement of the establishment." 
Peter Wright


"The modern picture of the artist began to form: The poor, but free spirit, plebeian but aspiring only to be classless, to cut himself forever free from the bonds of the greedy bourgeoisie, to be whatever the fat burghers feared most, to cross the line wherever they drew it, to look at the world in a way they couldn't see, to be high, live low, stay young forever -- in short, to be the bohemian.” 
Thomas Wolfe 


"The life of the young artist here is the easiest, merriest, dirtiest existence possible."
 William Thackeray


"She was consumed by 3 simple things: drink, despair, loneliness; and 2 more: youth and beauty." 
Charles Bukowski




The quotes above, finishes the story of the life I have led, my quest and where I am heading towards, in a nutshell. Yes, I must admit, bohemian life triggers my brain to work, to want something beyond comfort, food and a meager pay, to live a life or better still romanticize the very thought of living that way. Free spirited, that I have been, not always physically, but also somewhere inside my mind, where the consciousness holds no anchor to a certain place, but instead, wanders off to places unknown, of matters that were never discussed or even thought before, to wander aimlessly, freely amongst the many thoughts and the ruins of past happenings. And that's exactly what I have been nurturing within me, that is my plan for the future, to run away and never look back at the ashes that I leave. And the best part is, I will never have to care about where to go until and unless the continuous travel faces a dead end or a solid brick wall. If I am unable to stitch my soul and interest to the wonderful embroidery of art, I can however make art out of my life. That is exactly what I have planned to do in this long journey till death rises like the waves of a sea, comes ashore and washes away my feet. The journey won't be an easy one, and I would never want it to be a cake-walk either. I will miss much on the lessons that were meant to be taught to me, if I will float in the air instead of facing the obstacles. Then it will just be a life led and not learnt. But mere words are just not enough to give a visionary of what is bubbling up inside an artist, but writing out your true feelings is an art itself. An art to live for, live with and make a living.