I want this entry you're reading now to be an essay, which I'm learning, posits an opinion. I have to offer an opinion. My thesis will be at the end. Please don't read ahead asshole.
I'm reading two books right now: 'Curating New Media' and 'The Lively Art of Writing'.
I want to talk about art. I want to think about my personal format of art making. I want to explore this bottomless pit called Art. I want to relate to you if you give a shit about art. I want to show you I never stop thinking about art. I live art, even when I'm sick of the practice of it. Even when I think art making is useless and boring and not relevant, I'm thinking about art.
I have to tell you, it sickens me to hear these people when they say art is sooo fucking important to them and their daily life and their existence and they worship art. I hate that. Ironically, that's exactly what I'm telling you–I live for art.
I realize, though, it's the rhetoric that I don't like. It's the way they say it that I don't like. I'm a total snob and when someone's saying something I've heard many times before, I simply think they're a moron and I won't accept it as valid. It's a question of aesthetics in my mind that I wrestle with when I listen to 'these people'. It's in the way that they say it. It's the art of their words that I spar with.
If you want to say something trivial and meaningless, do it with style.
I live for art, but like a good writer, I don't wanna' tell you that, I want to show you.
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