I never thought....
I never thought I would want to do this but I do. And I can't quite believe it. That being, I want to do an art installation. I finally found something that excites me and that I envision being on some wall in some fancy ass gallery. It would be one of those installations that I personally DO NOT GET. And I want to do one. It would be one of those installations that few would probably understand and in fact there is nothing to understand. How the hell do you make that happen? Jesus I can't even get a gallery outside of Vermont to say BOO. I've noticed the last month or so that I am living in a more grandoise place in my mind as far as my art is concerned. I have to. I have to believe that what I'm doing is the shits. It feels great to feel great about making art. I'm so tired of feeling meek and inferior. I keep looking at art in all the best places and thinking what is the difference between their work and mine? I think at some point you have to put yourself in shoes that are a bit bigger than what you can actually fill in order to eventually fill them. Does that make sense? If I just remain satisfied with making art, getting some in the gallery, selling a few pieces online here and there how am I going to step it up a notch? How am I going to live off of that? I'm not. I'm not saying I'm walking around with some 'tude that I'm hot off the press Warhol. I'm not. Don't wanna be and frankly I still don't get Warhol. But dagnabit, I'm listening and paying a lot of attention to what excites me. To what I want to do. If it sucks then the horrible truth will come out. I am often surprised at what I create. Honestly, based on what I've lived through, who I've been in my past I would expect my art would be totally fucked up outsider insane art. Obsessive compulsive madness. I'm always shocked that I go towards more austere works. They feel good, it is nice to know that is in me instead of chaos. I really enjoy the simple open honesty that I feel is represented in my work. It is lightness even if it is heavy old toxic rusty looking scrap. Maybe it is nothing more than a reflection of self. It is a collision of the past, the unwanted, and embracing what is here and what is now. It is my language and I am starting to listen to it. Starting to speak it.