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The Art of Changing

October 29, 2019

MY PLACE

In the beginning we’re cast onto this planet without a choice, all of a sudden we just exist in the challenging cauldron of society. People try to teach us what it’s all about, conditioning us with strategies on how to cope, survive and prosper.  Shaping and moulding us into becoming useful parts of  the social apparatus of states. Then if we wake up from our indoctrination we might just ask that question, Is this it? Was I born to be a prisoner of circumstance or born free to explore the existential wonders of being in existence.

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I must admit that sometimes in the tumult of life I feel imprisoned by my own state of being and it really frustrates me. I’m made aware of it through the limitations I experience when expressing myself and through my thought processes where expectations are so often failed by outcomes. It’s also apparent in my daily life where the dichotomy between my visceral state and my social reality collide. A state of being which has been triggered by my search for an authentic artistic direction within a system bound by convention.

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Life experience has changed me and my understanding of life dramatically, however I’m still bound by an invisible social contract to conform and play the game. Meaning my life resonates between two sets of values. It’s a kind of duality /dichotomy which is an age old dilemma for many artists who have to eek a living from their skill sets, whilst trying to maintain a focus on a true and soulful purpose. It often confuses me because there’s no singular purpose or intent from the dynamic process of living where we’re subjected to overwhelming sensorial bombardments. By this I mean I’m unable to find single purposes for artistic expressions to satisfy desires or curiosity, all of which leaves me hanging. (In writing this blog I’m looking for direction and I think that my answer lies in a broader approach to art, an open mind and greater indifference to outcome.)

DON'T BE AN ARTY FUKKA

It is the discord in my being that provokes me into writing this blog, looking for answers and also the reprogramming of my mindset as I look to find the real me. It’s like I want to get myself connected so that I can move forward in a purposeful direction with some semblance of understanding. To know myself enough so that I can express myself with a bit of certainty, adding my comment to the great cauldron of ideas burning at the heart of society. Expressing myself without the need for external affirmation.

THIS CAT

So as part of my unstructured writing I rebel against society and the social controls dished out by economic sanctions. I decry the controlling establishment’s manipulation through institution, and the collective judgmental criteria which we are expected to follow. And I look for an individual empowerment and the freedoms and space to express myself from the neutrality of being in existence. My hoped outcome is to know who I am and feel confident enough to express myself with valididty and relevance. To have something of value to share.

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I feel there are no absolute truths about art, but there are compelling social reasons for art to exist within the framework of society. Art being a place to share the range  of experience and potential of human perception, both individually and collectively. Sometimes art is universal and sometimes it is somewhat esoteric, because once the creative force is unleashed it has the possibility to be anything. And so in this knowledge of art being anything and everything, the choices have to be made.

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In some ways I’ve become a bit of an outspoken Arty Fukka, lost in the dilemma of an artistic struggle that doesn’t quite fit anywhere. Guilty of being awkward and challenging, struggling, with my hands tied by poverty and exclusion from the opportunity to share my work beyond that which is cherry picked. And even though I can share my other work  on the internet, it feels like an exercise in futility.  My hopes dashed and burned, a life deconstructed in which I cling on to the remnants of my truth and integrity, caught in the flames like a phoenix poised in perpertuity, never able to fly.

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Sometimes I feel defeated, like there’s an inevitability about the adversity of challenging circumstance, which is that it either makes or breaks you. I feel that I may have endured both, a car crash life  in which the confrontation with adversity has resonated to the depths of my soul. And although I’ve experienced highs and lows, I never really found a fluent space or place to fit in with the wider circumstance. But I will keep on keeping on compelled by the challenge laid down by the invitation to create.

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It’s been through an air of flipancy and humour, that I’ve  survived happily distracted from my despair and frustration. However it’s in this very state of agitation where I come alive and am inspired to create and push my thoughts that one step beyond as I wander into my own wilderness. And as I reflect on my past I’m almost thankful for the adversity which has provoked me into searching for greater levels of understanding. A life in which I’ve refused to accept my lot, because I always thought that there is a purpose beyond operating within the confines of conventional expectations.

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I once wrote a blog about “Why I’m proud to be a loser in a capitalist society” which has been one of the most viewed blogs I’ve written.  I’ve no idea about its content but the sentiment of the title still lingers on in my thoughts. And I’ve grown to accept the mantle of being successfully unsuccessful, a predicament which ultimately suits my being, driving me towards the finding of a soul purpose in my own mini adventure. The good news for me is that I now feel closer to understanding who I am and why I need to embrace the sanctity of my life. Why I feel the need for a purpose in the futility of existence as I stumble through the theatre of life, heading in a direction without a destination.

Thanks for looking 🙂

 

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