Yep. This all tracks. Thank you for your insightful, comprehensive, unabashed, and, I dare say, vital (not to mention "genius -adjacent," at the very least...😉) articulations, in the production and dissemination of which I continue to lack the wherewithal of every kind (including but not limited to that of "establishment support) to invest.
Thanks for reading. I believe "establishment support" might be an oxymoron too.🙃 I don't think it would be much fun making art any more if it started to like me. I am in a good place right now because one person (Rose) accepts the Village Idiot in me, always-even while she never likes that I play the part.
Sep 11, 2023·edited Sep 11, 2023Liked by Ron Throop
After perusing the other comments, I remember that I wanted to say something else about artists.
I was given a copy of, "The Gift" (Lewis Hyde) shortly after it was published (early-mid 1980s) by a friend who said that her ideas on art were based somewhat on its author's beliefs about how art works in the real world.
My bigass takeaway from reading it was just one thing.
That thing is this: Art that is made with a buyer in mind is not art--it is craft or just flashy schlock.
Art flows from our conciousness, seeking no societal reward. Artists are satisfied to have spoken, sang, painted, written, sculpted or otherwise manifested their vision of the world. Whether others like it--or don't like--their audience's acceptance of the work is immaterial to their creative process.
True art emerges from the dung heap of "art production" despite the hubris, greed, deceit, rage and vanity of its makers. Their actual beauty shines, like nuggets of genuine gold in the pile of buffed-up turds that constitute a far too large pile of commodified art.
At the bottom of the page, art is honest--the other is a lie.
Oops. Yes, and me too. Though I'd settle to have lived a life accepted just as "painter" or "dreamer". I should be able to be these things as a career, especially if I am able to shape it with a partner's support.
I don't crave the garret yet. Not without the Internet:)
Sep 10, 2023·edited Sep 10, 2023Liked by Ron Throop
So, I've got the whole starving thing down--although my pear-shaped fatsuit hides that fact from the indignoranti. What I'm still unable (or possibly unwilling) to do is find my art. As it's a worthwhile pursuit, I intend to keep investigating and I shant be surprised/dejected when the search is unsuccessful.
Oh Terry, you are an artist through and through. Up to the gills if you were a fish, and up to the nostrils if you were even a little bit human like the crowd is human.
Though I don't think true art has ever emerged. For me, it's all about expression, showing the world I am alive. Proving it to myself sometimes too. I think there's something wrong in the head with makers of art. But I think there's something super-duper wrong in the head of those who don't make art.
I am old now and wanting to believe that I can be in nature and art all at once. Whoops! There it went! And then it comes back again.
I suspect I'll paint pictures until my last breat (hopefully an inhale) because it is work, and I need to work every day. I could dig ditches and sign clauses too, but blah!
Yep. This all tracks. Thank you for your insightful, comprehensive, unabashed, and, I dare say, vital (not to mention "genius -adjacent," at the very least...😉) articulations, in the production and dissemination of which I continue to lack the wherewithal of every kind (including but not limited to that of "establishment support) to invest.
Thanks for reading. I believe "establishment support" might be an oxymoron too.🙃 I don't think it would be much fun making art any more if it started to like me. I am in a good place right now because one person (Rose) accepts the Village Idiot in me, always-even while she never likes that I play the part.
After perusing the other comments, I remember that I wanted to say something else about artists.
I was given a copy of, "The Gift" (Lewis Hyde) shortly after it was published (early-mid 1980s) by a friend who said that her ideas on art were based somewhat on its author's beliefs about how art works in the real world.
My bigass takeaway from reading it was just one thing.
That thing is this: Art that is made with a buyer in mind is not art--it is craft or just flashy schlock.
Art flows from our conciousness, seeking no societal reward. Artists are satisfied to have spoken, sang, painted, written, sculpted or otherwise manifested their vision of the world. Whether others like it--or don't like--their audience's acceptance of the work is immaterial to their creative process.
True art emerges from the dung heap of "art production" despite the hubris, greed, deceit, rage and vanity of its makers. Their actual beauty shines, like nuggets of genuine gold in the pile of buffed-up turds that constitute a far too large pile of commodified art.
At the bottom of the page, art is honest--the other is a lie.
It’s a strange system—fame and fortune sucks time and risky creativity right out of an artist’s life. But yet, most artists seek to join that club.
Exactly.
Oops. Yes, and me too. Though I'd settle to have lived a life accepted just as "painter" or "dreamer". I should be able to be these things as a career, especially if I am able to shape it with a partner's support.
I don't crave the garret yet. Not without the Internet:)
So, I've got the whole starving thing down--although my pear-shaped fatsuit hides that fact from the indignoranti. What I'm still unable (or possibly unwilling) to do is find my art. As it's a worthwhile pursuit, I intend to keep investigating and I shant be surprised/dejected when the search is unsuccessful.
Oh Terry, you are an artist through and through. Up to the gills if you were a fish, and up to the nostrils if you were even a little bit human like the crowd is human.
Well said. Very well said!
Though I don't think true art has ever emerged. For me, it's all about expression, showing the world I am alive. Proving it to myself sometimes too. I think there's something wrong in the head with makers of art. But I think there's something super-duper wrong in the head of those who don't make art.
I am old now and wanting to believe that I can be in nature and art all at once. Whoops! There it went! And then it comes back again.
I suspect I'll paint pictures until my last breat (hopefully an inhale) because it is work, and I need to work every day. I could dig ditches and sign clauses too, but blah!
That's no fun.
😀🙃