For most people, art is a fantasy.
For the artist, it’s a reality.
Art is often confused with entertainment.
Entertainment is fun and shiny, cheap and easy.
Art is a war between life and death; suffering and euphoria.
Half of the artist’s time is spent thinking that their art is a waste of time and that they have nothing to say. The other half is spent thinking they are a genius and they are the only one with anything to say.
There are half-artists, pseudo-artists and genuine artists.
The half-artists think they can be happy and have what the common man has (e.g. family, money, success, fame, etc) and still produce meaningful art on the side.
The pseudo-artist thinks he is an artist because he dresses like one or acts like one but actually never produces anything even remotely resembling genuine artistic expression.
The genuine artist gives everything that needs to be given and sacrifices everything that demands to be sacrificed and compromises nothing that threatens the end result.
Art is not a choice.
Art chooses.
The artist is a victim of that choice.
The artist is a slave of their own selves.
The artist is a god of their own world.
The artist is a master of madness.
The greater the suffering (outer or inner), the greater the art.
Long live art.
May the suffering of mankind continue and enhance the artist’s repertoire.
Long live art.