pink fireman.
"pink fireman"
72 x 78.5"
oil on canvas
2006
posted by operation enduring artist at 10:19 PM
Monday, January 08, 2007
"pink fireman"
72 x 78.5"
oil on canvas
2006
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2 Comments:
Do you ever feel as if you'll die if you don't do art? As if the only thing holding the fabric of this world together is your desire to keep drawing and drawing until your body gives out?
Do you ever feel like you don't want to eat or sleep or breathe or talk or have sex or anything except make art? Do you ever feel like you're living through your work, like painting is how you breathe and eat, and the person who walks around and carries your name and manages your affairs and devours your dinner isn't really you, he's just a machine, something to house your consciousness so that you can keep working?
The art world scares me. Everyone talks about addressing social issues and destroying stereotypes and symbolizing ideas of femininity in modern culture. I don't really know anything about that. The machine that goes about every day sleeping my sleep and eating my food is concerned about politics and morals and so on, but that's not what I feel. All I feel is that if I don't make art, I won't be human any longer. If I don't make art I will never know what love is. I can't express myself through words, or grimaces, or gestures, I feel like that's all fake. I can only express myself through art. But whenever I try to say something true, it just goes through some filter of lameness and becomes an ordinary object. Just some color on paper, some awkward collection of ink marks. Not really art at all. It's really discouraging, it makes me feel like life is ultimately lacking in fulfillment. Do you ever feel like that?
its good to make sand castles. it is also good to play the piano. together however, we have 'the brian wilson effect'. jimi hendrix also played with castles...made of sand. he ingested his conciousness via a small piece of paper hidden in his bandanna, ultimately he set his tool on fire. richard pryor also set his tool on fire. his consciousness wasnt on a small piece of paper but it was squeezed through a tube. again, tool on fire. what do all of these artists have in common? brilliance...yes. tragedy...yes. burning tool castles? yes? dont burn your tool castle, let the tides do their job and dilute the tears.
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