For the Artist, self is the stuff from which creating takes place.
Boredom can be a gift in time, prompting the Artist to harvest something; anything. Found material within often disconcerting and emotionally painful.
Yet, without this digging around into self, boredom could not be undone by the mere act of doing; boredom would run into the deep recesses of being – like permeating rot.
We need Artists to be brave enough to dig around within their own depths. For without the Arts where would any of our beings be?
Art guides us toward the gentle unveiling of self in the most intimately direct ways, causing a journey not unlike the Artist.
If boredom were to find its way into our being,
then simply doing could never bring relief from its hold.