In the short while that i have had the gracious opportunity of being an art student ( four years now- almost, grilling under the notion of being 'educated' to be creative and somewhere at the intersection of creation and education, being referred to as a professional of art) i have realized that ours is a profession that starts right off the point we step through the threshold of the gates of an art shool or an art studio, for that mater, with the conviction of becoming a professional, practicing, full-time devotee of our own 'psyched-out' world (psyched-out because art, though essentially a very public and overt entity, still is a product of as personalized factors and rudiments of an individual as an artist would hate for it to be). The most initial of the unnerveing challenges dusting this path come with convincing the parents of what we're up to and how it is, well more or less, a profitable job (say so for their sake).
What is so different about artists and their 'job' that makes them so varied and unlike the rest of the slaving masses? We love what we do? i guess theres a hoard of careerists and nonrecreational workers who'd claim the same. Point is, every time we 'do' something, we've created. Created an idea ,a trend or simply the tangible body of a thought or philosophy or even a whim! Arists are most frequently involved with the most intimate essence of nature. Not just life but the very soul of it. And in disentangleing this seemingly untangible affair( and oh the joy of it! ), the self is either lost to the vastness of the collective concience or is broken free of it. So unpredictable! Which brings me back to my inaugural concern.
It is nearly impossible ( read inconceivably unimaginable ) to explain to the uncomprehending minds the ways of The Process. The 'sacred' Process. This process of creation and conception is so far away from the understanding of the artist himself that it is not possible for him to go out and state the certainities of this life or 'job'.
What is worse is what, in the name of opportunities, the management of certain societies around the globe provides. In case of the system that this sorry artist belongs to, there has been a dire deprivation of the very staples that would make the notion of a steady career real. So all the more reason for pitching into a frantic sense of panic.
Keeping in mind this and the experiences i've so far gathered on the home-front( read home), i've come to one desperate conclusion. I shall, on my part, do what i must and leave the rest to the forces that govern the sound beingness of life on this planet despite the disruptive din and hoo-ha that is the day-after-day reality of our existance today.
Until the next time i get inspired !
so long!
What is so different about artists and their 'job' that makes them so varied and unlike the rest of the slaving masses? We love what we do? i guess theres a hoard of careerists and nonrecreational workers who'd claim the same. Point is, every time we 'do' something, we've created. Created an idea ,a trend or simply the tangible body of a thought or philosophy or even a whim! Arists are most frequently involved with the most intimate essence of nature. Not just life but the very soul of it. And in disentangleing this seemingly untangible affair( and oh the joy of it! ), the self is either lost to the vastness of the collective concience or is broken free of it. So unpredictable! Which brings me back to my inaugural concern.
It is nearly impossible ( read inconceivably unimaginable ) to explain to the uncomprehending minds the ways of The Process. The 'sacred' Process. This process of creation and conception is so far away from the understanding of the artist himself that it is not possible for him to go out and state the certainities of this life or 'job'.
What is worse is what, in the name of opportunities, the management of certain societies around the globe provides. In case of the system that this sorry artist belongs to, there has been a dire deprivation of the very staples that would make the notion of a steady career real. So all the more reason for pitching into a frantic sense of panic.
Keeping in mind this and the experiences i've so far gathered on the home-front( read home), i've come to one desperate conclusion. I shall, on my part, do what i must and leave the rest to the forces that govern the sound beingness of life on this planet despite the disruptive din and hoo-ha that is the day-after-day reality of our existance today.
Until the next time i get inspired !
so long!
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