so i was reading kurt brindley’s at art’s pointy end of the spear post questioning the artist’s role in times like these…to just art harder, more vigorously–or to art with purpose & message? i commented that my art falls flat when i try to do it with a message, so i hope that there is enough of my passion & my radical nature in me that they spill into my art and somehow my art has a message…if that makes sense.
today’s ink is an example of my congested psyche spilling onto my inked up page. i named it after the trump administration…the stuff of nightmares.
okay. so i don’t analyze my own art. not really. i mean i might see a significance in it, but i don’t go down deep with it. i actually switched to an art major from an english major because i got tired of being expected to break stories down and go over them with a fine tooth comb. fuck it. i just like to read. and i just like to look at art. i like to get a feeling from it. i like to feel the passion and emotion of the artist. that being said, i don’t really analyze my art.
i do invite others to analyze it. as any of my therapists will tell you. i enjoy being analyzed. i was the fourth of six kids. i did not get a lot of attention from my parents. i am dying for attention (in a very cryptic way…cryptic attention, clandestine fame?) so i love for anyone to spend enough time thinking about me to analyze me.
this inking kind of creeps me out. the dragons in the sky…maybe it’s something that has haunted my dreams.