Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Barely related

My desk in the Sculpture, Performance and Installation studio of SCA; the place that has been my home for almost three years.

Now there is only a semester to go til the end times and I'm paralysed with fear. For the love of all that is good will someone please lend me a TARDIS?

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Edit:

Is there any practicing artist out there who wakes up in the morning and thinks "yes, this is what I am interested in and what I will make art about. I believe in this wholeheartedly and will be able to deal with it in a way that is satisfying to me. Though it will inevitably evolve over time due to external opinion and my own personal development, I will continue to learn and improve in this particular area because I enjoy it"?

A lecturer once asked me to develop a strategy for creating art. (I later forgot about an appointment to discuss it with him and got into lots of trouble.) How the hell are you meant to do that? How is anyone supposed to balance "want" and "should", the compulsion to "make" and intellectual satisfaction, id and ego? There will be no contentment until these two warring poles are sated in a blissful union that splits the heavens with the ecstasy of their joining (with confetti, we mustn't forget the confetti).
Maybe I'm too much of an idealist when it comes to art practice. This state of rapture can't possibly exist outside the realm of speculation/self-assured ignorance, so let me reframe my predicament.

Why does it seems like everyone has at least half a clue when I don't? (Or maybe I do and I'm just dithering at the edge because I'm scared of the jump.)


Man, I need to get more actual art onto this damn blog. This is just embarrassing.

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Edit:

Please refer to post title.

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