Saturday, December 10, 2005

Mmm .. E-puffany

Me, I'm a rootless cosmopolitan. A hunter-gatherer, member of the paleolithic leisure class. Deep down I'm obsessed with beauty (in all it's hideous forms) and love (not I-own-you love). And I've been trying to stuff myself into a paradigm I don't really agree with. Find a career, marry, save money, these yuppie mantras have been eating away at my brain for the last year or so.

We might now contemplate aesthetic actions which posses some sort of resonance of terrorism (or "cruelty" as Artaud put it) aimed at the destruction of abstractions rather than people, at liberation rather than power, pleasure rather than profit, joy rather than fear. "Poetic Terrorism."
-Hakim Bey, Temporary Autonomous Zone

The above summarizes my new goal for after college. To embrace and cultivate chaos and joy, to assault the unexpecting with happy and terrifying acts of art.

That's very vague. What does it mean? What exactly will I do? Well, you'll see. The first one will happen soon.

So don't play the blessed liberal middleclass martyr- accept the fact that you're a criminal and be prepared to act like one.

See, the problem with art school is they help you hone your craft, sharpen your skill, but tell you there's nothing more you can do with it than work in advertising, or if you're lucky sell your "work" for profit. (Ohh I hate calling it work.)

But me, I love what I do too much to turn it into a product. Like a bottle of Coke, a shoe, or a condom. Something to be used, then thrown away. I want what I do to echo in my audience's mind like a snowball. An idea that only gets thicker as it rolls around in their memory until it is too big not to express. I want to blur the line between artist and audience, turn the by-stander into a genius.

Care to join me?
Calling all merry pirates and evil mimes!

posted at 8:33 AM |