Sometimes with my artwork, I feel like a messenger who was given a basket with something inside and I'm not to see it until it arrives at its destination, and then I get there and it's a three headed chicken squid. I find myself asking - I delivered this why? Somewhere there is someone for whom this is their answer, I guess. Either that or I'm insane and this is all just the 21st century cave wall shit smatterings of a psychopath. I dunno. I'm all out of answers right now, but the show goes on eh?
There is something my soul is in need of and I have no words for it, just vague notions and urges. An emptiness with no hope of any fulfillment. A swirling vortex of need and fear and hate. Some call it life.
Recommended Listening:
Sleep Party People
I'm Not Human At All
from Sleep Party People
{Digital Images manipulated in Photoshop}
2 comments:
Don't fret mi amigo. We all have our baskets to deliver. Personally, I like not seeing what's in the basket until it arrives. I end up being a part of my own audience that way. It may sound narcissistic but in this way my art ends up being my own reward for creating it in the first place. Actually, it doesn't always feel like a reward but at least it's never boring. And don't worry about being a crazy artist. That's what people expect from us deranged creative types : )
I just feel, and perhaps misguidedly, that I should have a general idea of what I am bringing into the world. I feel like I should have more to say to anyone who reads my blog than "I sat in front of my computer with Photoshop for three or four hours and this is what popped out". I guess I feel like I should have a better grip on my pathos...
(then he had to crawl back to the keyboard to type this last bit because he hurt himself when he fell to the floor laughing...)
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