Today is the day

I’m confused.I think I’ve been confused since university.Before university art was fun, I didn’t even think of it as ‘art’ but now it has this,this aura around it…it can’t just be a drawing or a painting or even just a scribble there has to be some kind of intellectual integrity backing it up.It has to have meaning,Why?I make marks, I respond….no I react to my life and those things that impinge on my soul sometimes by attacking a white canvas with colour marks other times by expressing how I feel through figuritive work.I don’t think to hard about the matterials I use..It is always ‘whats at hand’ So why am I now stuck in some kind of intellectual vapour lock?Every time I make a mark I ask myself why? Why did I use that colour? Why did I place it there? Why? Why? Why? It’s got to the stage that I ask the question before I make the mark and consequently don’t make the mark. Dear reader this may sound like self indulgent b******S to you but to me it’s very real.University took the fun out of art.