To my art

I want to say a little about my artwork. I abandoned it. I no longer believed in it and I threw most of it away and erased all the files I could. Now I have started to try again, to start again, to do something meaningful. I will never have a body of work that started in my twenties and blossomed into my thirties. I see a relationship now between the relationship I describe here in this 'space' and how it relates to my artwork. I will never have that and it is something I have to accept just like a beloved's death. There is more, whether I like it or not. I wish to somehow find a way to really be alive in my own time and way and not worry about those that have come before me. I have in the past felt like I need to procreate to be a good person, a fulfilled person, a responsible person for my, our race, the human race. I honestly thought those things. Now I am single, 35 going on 36 and have a vacation coming up from my job at Goodwill where I am a newbie manager learning my way through what it means to manage and I am along with that doing everything I can to breathe life into an art for myself to look forward to to keep me believing in this incarnate journey.

There are some images as I like to call them included in the website that hosts this 'space' within which I work. The series is called Corporealize. It is titled that because it explores the body as both an instrument of detection and an object of it and creates through my own little unique vision a place of pure abstraction and spontaneous presence captured in panorama. I really love these pieces. They mostly only exist digitally. I have not had a chance to have them acknowledged by many people other than my family and my family though they love me don't usually and perhaps cannot even rightly understand my art, why I do it, why it is so important to me. I feel like they secretly want me to find love like every other schlep in this world and just become a mediocre louse. I guess I am showing my cards here. Afterall, I got to see the world after I broke up with my first and perhaps only true love in this life. God rest her soul don't make it have to make us happy in it's absence.

I keep trying so hard to write about art to actually make art by writing but other aspects of my life as it is now rather than what I set out to make it keep pushing their way in to my hearts shining and truth. I wanted to make music like the bands and artists I grew up on from around 13 to 19. Then I wanted to do something more refined, something 'great' like fine art. Now that I have desicrated my shrine of pure art by destroying that portion of my mind palace I have to learn to let go perhaps of the old highs that I achieved like showing work in a showcase at The Wexner Center in Columbus Ohio. I have to let that go now. But for what? Sometime to hark to the past because it actually WAS better. It was! My young love was more full of life and then my art, now I don't know what to even strive for though art is a solace and perhaps a far off dream, the real kind of dream that I may meet someone yet who will somehow make sense in all of this and even with that be allowed so to speak to create the true art that my heart wants to make. God bless it!!! And I don't really even believe in a God or god. Not really in the normal sense I don't know what I believe because I feel so strange about it all. I have felt like a ghost in my own life. But as Bullworth said, "you got to be a spirit, you can't be no ghost" actually I think it was not the character Bullworth but a homeless man in that movie. I guess I do secretly and not so secretly hope that this, my life, amounts to something. Amen and Omen. Nightmares be damned, The clouds will break. I made it to a New York City gallery at 35, not that I showed my work there but just that I stepped inside and was present there. I have only been reading and hearing people say that New York is the center of the art world for the better part of my life and yet I had dorkier dreams of being like Gary Larson when I was younger. Just sad right now and wanting my art to gain traction as nothing else in my life is. I mean my job has me learning a lot and growing as a human being the 'but' comes when I am brought to say that it is as a middle manager that I am growing and learning ...WHERE IS MY ART? All this time is going by, it's like daydreaming is a sickness. but the alternative is too confounding to bring a sense of pure satisfaction like when I showed my work at the Wexner Center.

This work is hard and maybe I am wrong about "her soul" "resting". I am just finding my way (reminds me of the Trent Reznor as Nine Inch Nails song Find My Way).