Wednesday, September 21, 2011

[ 0 4 ] l e t t e r s t o a y o u n g p o e t

There's something of value about the alternate forms of novel reading. Especially the letter, from having fond memories of reading "Perks of Being a Wallflower" what seems to be ages ago. There was a phrase in that book, to sort of segway into "Young Poet". It said "it feels like I'm infinite". This is the feeling of isolation, and having what seems to be eons in seconds to perfect one's art distant and segregated from society from either personal means of actual existing ones. The letter is the perfect format for getting this message across. It is not a full expression on canvas which seems like exploitation in a way if one is being true to the state of isolated endeavors. Being trapped alone and creating with worry is the feeling of ambiguity slicing your soul into pieces, and such is how you escape and try to make contact to society. In glimmers, not a full shine. You're from a distance, so your communication is bold in segments, not a big bold communication only interesting in segments.

The book of course is radical enough to hymn in the point that you should rarely mind other criticisms and the true art comes from the self and one's own perception. Admirable, because all books do need a radical view of conflict to be interesting and create good drama. I think its right, but from a slightly jilted perspective. The various identities which comprise ourselves individually alone create a web of society and a full canvas. This is what worries me about some people, but especially myself. Some humans are interested in being the 'whole package', trying to fulfill every aspect of what a top tier person is. Whether this accounts for looks, behavior, or ethic, most strive for it only harming themselves along the way because the truth is it is unattainable for 99.5% of us. We may be 'close', but no dice. Instead, we embrace the individual identity, and thus we will reach a full audience every in personality bias because it is an adventure to get to know society.

As it should. Its not an autocracy. At least some of it.

I learned that apathy, and the artistic product of it, 'irony' is a dangerously delicious tool to use. It should only be used when a certain strength of craft or intellect (and it should be strong intellect) is achieved. Otherwise, there is a dangerous chance of being perceived as juvenile or simply counter-establishment without a cause (re: lazy). I believe irony is associated with art so much is because art is unlike many other professions (though as mentioned by the book, all professions require the same time and isolation). Art is in a constant state of motion, with artists themselves changing direction at the drop of a dime and the tides of the general consensus are always performing paradigm shifts. In fact, the book even argues against the need for extravagant structures for the mind is always organic to its own self apart from whatever mass collaborative beauty that is built. We always imagine, at the expense of not whole, but fractures of reality. Thus is a crucible between the rural (the fantasy) and the urban (the reality).

Routine does indeed suck.

The most beautiful thing that caught my eye, as a little sick mentally (not an exaggeration, a family heritage of illness), is that sickness is defined as the escape from the body. This is art! This is painting and throwing your soul in grandiose expression on the canvas for the world to see. Art is taking one's own thought and giving it to the world. Wouldn't this be true of any kind of speech? Ever? Well then, I guess that means we're all sick in the head and body. Everyone. And that invigorates me. However, there are levels of sickness we all deal with. But it means we are all unified, like individual artist identities in a web of networking. No one is sick alone because we all are. Show me a stone, silent man who has taken that nomadic vow apart from any kind of world and I will show you the healthiest man on Earth.

We've analyzed his paintings as performance. How about suffering?

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