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Crazy little thing called Life

December 1, 2013

crazy little thing called life


I guess it would be impossible to live a life without regret but to live a life without fulfillment is another matter and one that concerns me quite deeply. I have been unfortunate to suffer more than my fair share of deaths and the one thing that always stood out was that your life is here and now and for living. With my sisters the endings were sudden and unexpected and exposed the meaningless worries and burdens that we carry as part of our lives. The hopes, worries and concerns projecting into a future that may never exist seem like futile trimmings distracting you from seeing the moment you are in.
At times I’ve wondered how to turn the feelings of despair and disappointment into something positive, which at the moment lies at the heart of my struggle with life and art.
I feel now that I can get closer to a purity in my art that isn’t bound by logic or obvious reason. It’s more about a connection to the centre of self and a deeper understanding of life where I feel free to express myself without inhibition. Though I only feel that I touch on this occasionally before real world reality bites back.
It’s the judgmental aspects of life and peoples reactions that I find interferes with my process, because it creates a fear of being different and exposed. To me this fear is irrational because it centres around a deeeply held insecurity, but the more I work through it, the closer I get to my objective. Which is creating meaningful art in search of a meaning to my life and a validation to my struggle. I sometimes feel that it’s a search to work through a sense of meaninglessness and futility that drives me to such an intense level of commitment.
Art beyond vanity and superficial egotistical objectives pretty much sums up my approach at the moment.
There are times when it feels like a desperate search that I’ve been drawn into as a result of my objectively analytical approach to art and the confrontation with the transparently pretentious art world. An art world that never gave me anything meaningful to identify with on a deep and meaningfull level and where I felt playing the game by their rules was at odds with the core of me. My worry was always that by becoming disillusioned with the system that I would find the making of art a futile experience and throw in the towel, but I haven’t thus far. It was a matter of not allowing the restraints of societal constructs to destroy my passsion and desire for creativity, because art goes well beyond a contemporary context.
I still feel that art is a timeless gift and fundamental to our consciousness and I expect to feel that through my work, which I have though at times it has been diluted for superficial convention.
When you pursue art to your deepest level you reach a point where it becomes very personal, when you feel despair you are inconsoleable and when you feel joy it’s hard to share it and this is tough because you realise you’re on your own and truly standing up.
on my journey I feel that I’ve crossed many personal rubicons to a point where friends have at times warned about the abyss that (forensic objective analysis) it can lead you into. But in an open search for a personal truth you have to go over the edge because of the knowledge that may exist outside of your comfort zone, which may just be what you are looking for. I feel that By ignoring these possibilities you stand a chance of remaining a prisoner to your fears. My Father always warned me about a life in art and the struggle but I wouldn’t swap it for anything



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