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The trials of being an Arty Fucker

March 20, 2014

Untitled - 64

My head is aching from sifting through the thousands of drawings and images that I made over the past two years, in my open search for a meaning to life and art, hoping to find a way forward out of  an increasingly meaningless way of being. I’ve shocked myself and can’t believe what I have uncovered in myself, not only bountiful ideas but a new sense of growing freedom and confidence. It’s been an awakening of the senses and a realisation of the human spirit that has crushed my overwhelmingly intellectual approach to life denying the rational and logical side as absolute ways of being. The  battle for ownership and ego appears like a vain folly, because it denies the magical aspect of being, the aspect we cannot rationalise or explain and which we have to be open to experience and feel. To step away from an apparent reality based on logic may seem to be absurd, because it’s a risk, there is no safety net and you must learn to trust in something beyond your imagination. And that is the whole that you are a part of and to which you are inextricably linked, like it or not our reality is one of being a living entity in a great big universe. So we can’t know everything but we can feel everything because we are all a part of it , but only if we break down our constructs that hold us in bondage. Modern life is good at subverting us from the reality of being, by forcing us into a societal structure based on rules that are there for the control of the masses, even the free thinking artists are bound by rules and expectations as they are forced into the confines of the suffocatingly oppressive art world. But some escape the life controlling forces and break free, free to discover a world with a different reality through ways of doing and seeing and for me I have done just this. I had no choice in the end because I felt driven towards truth and the fulfilment of what, who and how I have always been in my life from my earliest memories. That is to feel free, to speak openly as I see things and to live an honest life expanding my consciousness in a celebration of life. Now that sounds quite simple and easy but my reality has been an immense struggle because my approach to life is threatening to some in that it undermines systems and in applying my thoughts through discussions and with business associates I have found levels of incompatibility. If I don’t respect rules and see them as markers used to leverage pressure on people then I can’t abide by them and in one sense the whole of commerce is based around trading rules that do not apply to being an artist, so why are artists cast into this world, is it convenience or control or both, I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that when you put artists into this commercial system you kill their art, because they are immediately distracted into thoughts about fitting in, fitting in on every level and within this construct praise is sought in the search of fame and fortune. But the reality of art is the making of marks to express yourself  and not making marks to entertain the world and provide the upper echelons of society with their tradeable feast, along with all the academics who understand the esoteric language of pretension and explain it to the lower ranks. In short art has become a porn in a game, owned both ideologically and as a product, marketed in a populist way and disguised through an oblique language, which I am cynical enough to criticise as mere game playing for the middle classes who pursue complex arguments about pickled fish.



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