I'm Coo Coo for Color (or Can Anyone Ever O.D. on a Color High?)

Mad Man in Pastel 

The clock is the ultimate frenemie for the Mad Man. Too much time and ideas just trickle through his hands, lost with no urgency driving them. Too little time and ideas flood every corner of his brain creating a log jam that can bring everything to a stop.

Personally, I've found that the morning only invites a to-do list with no time for inspiration. While the night owl flies about me with ideas by the thousands.

The Madman - There will be moments when the idea you want seems to be on the other side of a busy freeway. You can see it, but you can't put your finger on it yet. You can close your eyes and hope that being zen or praying brings the idea to you. You can go for a meandering walk and stumble across the idea in an unexpected place. You can get really good at playing Frogger and just own that freeway, run against the traffic, and claim your prize. Good ideas are just too valuable to let escape. 

Look to the Light (or How Many Mad Men Wear Tailored Suits?)

Mad Man in Pencil 

Oh the possibilities!

The frenetic phase of ideas and inspiration that causes a natural endorphin rush can be a bit addictive. Ideas, color, creative combinations, new transformations, bold opinions, and quiet moments surround us and taunt us with endless streams of possibilities.

You can't remain a student forever. At some point you must go a little mad and take some artistic risks to strike out on your own path. And if you're wearing a tin foil hat while on your journey people will definitely keep on eye on what you'll do next.

The Mad Man - If only you could collect ideas and dreams in butterfly nets before they float away, laughing as they escape.  

Journey into Madness (or Was I Already There?)

Mad Man in Ink

Sometimes you just need a tinfoil hat!

Every artist dons the Madman's hat when they have a thousand ideas bouncing through their minds like rabbits hopped up on Red Bull and Pop Rocks and Espresso and Pixy Stixs.

It's that exciting spark of creation, that burst of inspiration, that whirling dervish of possibilities that capture our imaginations, and like so many eccentric geniuses we tilt at windmills, we search for snuffleupagus, and we build castles in the air.

The first painting I remember of Rene Magritte was the Castle in the Pyrenees, a castle built on a boulder floating several feet in the air above a roaring sea. Brilliant madness!

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The Madman - I could go in a thousand different directions, only a few of them would be wrong, but all of them would be interesting as long as I keep moving!