I Was Here

All creative work is inherently autobiographical. One of the most profound lessons I learned about engaging in artistic endeavors was my ultimate paradox: to at once not be married to the creation's artificiality, discouraged by its deconstruction, or obsessed with its inevitable destruction, all the while acknowledging it as a particularly important and unique lens for a willing audience through which to experience 'you.'

It's strange to think that as eternal as we might like to regard our souls or whatever essence we perceive ourselves to be made up of, some of the only evidence of the greatest creative geniuses out there are these material objects we hang in halls and galleries, or indefinitely hidden away in dark dry rooms (perhaps never to be seen again, ironically), created from the very materials we rightfully attribute as 'temporary.' I'd like to think that maybe someday generations from now someone will pull up a painting of mine and say, "maybe this guy was onto something." The dream.

It's self-indulgent, I know, but I reckon, a universal desire: 

To know that, at some point in this messy existence we shared for a brief time with all the other lucky ones, we had contributed wholly, fully and desperately, in some meaningful way.

Earth-Shattering Revelation #34: Change is the only constant.

Current Music: JJ Grey & Mofro's "The Sun is Shining Down"