my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and
taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and
chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of
chrome and execute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am
becoming something a little different, in fact
myself
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet
bellowings.
E.E.Cummings
This is more of a lilac shriek than a scarlet bellowing. I’ve been reading George Orwell’s essays ‘Why I write’ and looking at other artist's dilemmas and found some significance for myself there. However this does not make me feel particularly comfortable with the direction that this will give to my blurb particularly when unlike Orwell writing in hindsight, I am still somewhere in my ‘underwent poverty and a sense of failure ‘phase. Or perhaps I need to acknowledge publicly that this is my case. And also the case of others.
4 comments:
Maybe we all have this sickness about art. I have found some people happy about art and others, drawn to the flame and burnt. Recently, I went to a breakfast with a few old art college friends. Everyone was in different states. One was elated that he was producing art after years of battle. Then another, a mother of three, was just hanging out to see us all and talk art. She was edgy and possibly depressed, but wanting more. I could see what she wanted but I don't if I or we delivered. The third her partner seemed marginally indifferent and resolved about his life in the art world. In the past he has said, after giving many years to art, "what has Art ever done for me". He is now a High School art teacher and seems to get much balance from his job. As for me, I am a pretty satisfied person. I still believe, that I don't have to justify myself, but rationally I think I should add to the meager skills and talents that I have. One stone on top of another, what else do I know? Hopefully, one day, without a spotlight, my "Art works" might shine. And hopefully yours will too. Keep it up and be inspired.
Yes well I keep making the stuff so there must be something there. Or am I just stubborn ? I don't know. I looked at some old paintings yesterday and dragged one out to hang on the wall. I like it better now than when I made it. There are others in the same series that I am going to revisit, add some more layers, see what happens. I will photograph the process, now that I have a camera, and put the result up on this blog.
It's very strange to revisit old works, particulary those we thought 'failures'. Sometimes objectivity only comes with time. I like a lot of the work I didn't now and I'm not so impressed and perhaps a little embarrassed about my crowing over some mediocre stuff.
What else can fill you up and confuse us and inspire and defuse us...glimpses perceived to help continue the journey so many take,
A lifetime's travelling. We are lucky and sad and fullfilled and courageous as we awake each day after fitfull sleep. I enjoy your pieces having just found you in the wilderness. Thank you.
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