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The Art of Eternal Torment

September 12, 2014

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As I work and think, I’m locked into a fierce internal dialogue, a dialogue that swings like a violent pendulum, at one extreme there is pride, elation and joy, residing at the other side, despair and torment. In one sense there is no convenient balance for me because balance by its nature connotes an equilibrium that I find borders on an acceptance of what is. For my art “what is” doesn’t interest me as I search for “what could be” and at the moment “what could be” troubles me. It troubles me because as I look back over my life I still feel levels of inadequacy that torment my peace and I can’t help but question the validity of my endeavours to date. There is no doubt in my mind that I have travelled a long way with my work and developed beyond my imagination, but is that enough? and will I ever feel a true satisfaction for my efforts. The solution or answers to my dilemma are extremely elusive and in the personal evolution or developmental arc I would surmise that satisfaction is unobtainable beyond a contentment from a continual personal growth in conceptual developments and understanding. I think to stand back and look upon past achievements with pride is counter productive beyond a little nostalgic indulgence. So I accept my evolving state of being and embrace the conflict of self-doubt and belief  as I march forward trying to hold onto my optimism, faith and hope. I know my current feelings are part of a cyclical process, but I feel them so intensely, because my art means everything to me and the despair at failing to reach my expectations haunts me. I have always tried to reach as far as I can and extract all I have to offer, though I know great swathes of my life have been lost in the depths as I’ve wrestled with the application of my art into society.

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Being an artist on its own is a stiff personal challenge, which is only magnified by the conditions and treatment that we are subjected to by society. It becomes an almost impossible task and there are times when I refuse to compromise, for which I pay a heavy price. But without art and creativity there is no true value to a society, so it should rank highly in the priority of a civilized nation. I see so many opportunities lost and I feel the powerlessness of being marginalised, I have a small voice because there is no currency in my words or my art. The crazy thing is that I know my ideas are as worthy as any others and yet my country chose to ignore my endeavours totally. Yes I can make a living in an elitist world if I work like a slave, but I can’t allow myself to be indefinitely subjugated to the compromise that reduces my art and crushes my soul.

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Rock On ❤

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