Thursday, October 8, 2015

i'm pretty angry and directing it at different sources so far this morning, and i've already e-mailed what's close to a carbon copy of what this post will be.
for the record: criticisms over art infuriate me. what's the fucking agenda? to help, or to adjust your confusion over my work into your own ideological understanding? yesterday i read an article on students protesting a renoir exhibition at a museum somewhere because the works of other artists in storage are "better".

art is given expression. it's amoral. it's the subjective experience. art is everything. letting this cloak me has set me free. it's the only happiness i know.
when art is gauged by a scale of good to bad, that's reflective of your own standards- not the artists. if the artist is criticizing their own work, it's because they've digested your standards. they're not trying to please as much as they're trying to escape their own shame. i know this happens to me a lot when i try to "draw normal" or write in the rigid style we're expected to- in the taught structure.

i'm bored. i like to create my own meanings and translations because i'm going to do that anyway and the world could use something fresh. when i try to write a "story", i give up, because i have issues with committing as is. it's like trying to be someone else. the taught structure is not my structure.
another point: disorganization does not exist. we all organize. it's practically all we do. my organizing is just as accurate a reality as the others.

and i don't write "stories". there doesn't have to be a name. i don't even have to be an z, a y, or a z. the bottom line is i'm here. the things i do are here.
everything has everything to do with everything. the world is involved with itself like that.