Hate it when a name don't stick...

Well, I thought I had decided on my current painting's name, but it had other opinions. I wanted thought it should be called The gospel according to Wilbur. However, WILBUR thought other wise. I am now changing it's name to The Gospel according to Roy G. Biv. A little less witty, but it is out of my hands. Kind of in a tricky spot with it. Roy's being a bit of a stubborn fool. Some paintings just float right into the way they are supposed to be. Then there are the ones like Roy that fight the process kicking and screaming. I don't like painting the forced way. Too much room for mistake. When a painting flows there are never mistakes. I have been lucky enough to have been on a streak. This is the first stubborn painting I have had in years. There are only two reasons for this. Either I was not pushing my skills hard enough OR... I was not pushing myself hard enough.

I think this painting is just a touch beyond my skill level which will make it all the more satisfying when I pull it off. Nothing better than doing something that you think is impossible. It does wonders for the self esteem. Now that I think about it, I have been accomplishing plenty of impossible goals lately. Failure is inevitable with the multitude of impossible tasks I have been taking on. Though Roy ain't going to be one of them... You hear that Roy... Tomorrow it's on.

Too much...

That's it, that's all.

Too many things and too little time.

Hurry this

and

Hurry that.

Check the time

and

rotate back,

but already behind.

Creatively master minding success...

There are many ways to succeed, but only one way to fail.

Urban Monkism Quarterly is progressing quite nicely. I think it shall meet it's completion deadline of late may, but the only question is... Will anybody care? Actually, that doesn't matter. It never has. It never will. It matters to me and that is all that matters.

My new painting is coming along swimmingly as well. Along with the many other various projects I have going on right now. The magazine will cost $10.00 I think. That seems a fair price. I aim to complete 2-3 pages a day in order to reach my goal of 75 by the end of may. So for these next couple of days I can kind of ease into it and then head full steam ahead next week...

So many plans, so little of me to go around. I need assistants, but all they would do is get in the way.

Announcing Urban Monkism Quarterly...

Yep, that's right. Heard it hear first... That is, if anybody is paying attention. In my effort to document my entire life as an artist I am developing something I have been putting off for a long time.

Coming this summer I am going to put out the first quarterly catalog, issue, publication, or whatever anyone wants to call it. It is going to be properly named " The Prototype". This first issue is going to be rough around the edges. Real rough, but as I figure out exactly where I am going with this each issue will improve upon the last.

Basically, it is a catalog of everything Urban Monk. My books, my thoughts, my poetry, my art, and completely my opinions on everything with a Post Modern Barbecue twist. It will strictly deal with all things creative. There will be absolutely no ads except for products produced by me.

Eventually, I hope to feature artists' work that I like and know. Also, maybe interviews and who knows what else. This is kind of a working idea, but I will put the first one out there in late may.

I don't know why I am doing this. It isn't like anybody is listening out there, but for some reason I feel that all of this work that I am producing is for a reason. I feel as though everything I do should be documented. There is something within my art and ideas that lay an important concept or fundamental essence. I am not sure what or why it is. I just know that there is something profound resting beneath the surface and I am slowly starting to scratch away the dirt like an archeologist uncovering ancient ruins.

The more I try and dissect what it is that drives my art, the better and more profound my art becomes. By seeing how elements and techniques can inter relate with other subjects that appear at first glance to have no correlation is really quite amazing. Who'd of thought that listening to physicist and molecular biologist give speeches would influence the way I think about the application of color and texture or that listening to a woman's view on the Theory of Darwin's Evolution would cause me to think about the evolution of my own art and perhaps it is not the way it is because of the way I thought it was.

These quarterly catalogs might just become my little pet project. I have no idea where they are headed, but then again I have no idea where I am headed. All I know is that I follow the flow of my creative energy. And right now my creative energy is telling me that I need to write this quarterly amongst other things.

The muse has spoken and I have listened...

Fresh Start

A Native American Samurai's morning.

Wells of freshness spray through rusty sprinklers.

A new beginning, but aren't they all.

The familiar recognition of consciousness

starts nagging again.

Like the rice harvesters of Vietnam

So does my day too start already behind.

The same things I did yesterday

need done today.

The meditations of a brush

sooth my anxious soul.

I plead with my mind like Vegas pleads with me.

What happens here, stays here.

Though that is never the case.

Another beginning.

Another day further behind.

Back to the present and focus on the now...

Well, I have been slacking in my priorities set forth on January first. I have produced another book although it wasn't on the list. Everything else I have been slacking off on.

So, with that being said. I am going to get back on track with poem of the day starting now...

And I will call it, "Stressed"

Slumped backs and slouched cadavers.

My lady of luck is slack.

I think thoughts of forgotten goals and worn torn souls.

A Poe frame of mind, but too dreary for me.

Give me a rainy day to make me shine like an unexpected package.

Please no more dreams of bullet riddled bodies

ravaged by lost packs of dogs.

Tormented teeth grind through tormented eyes.

Surviving is the easy part.

It's getting back to sleep that keeps me awake at night.

Overwhelming & Under Developed...

What best describes my plan towards life.

Pre-sleep art thoughts...

An artist must turn corners blind and take on challenges of the impossible. If an artist does not do such things then I consider them not to be an artist. Simple as that. There are hobbyist and excellent craftsmen, but artist I think not. I know very few artist in the fields of the fine arts, but I seem to know far more artist in other careers that do not consider themselves artists.

My journey is an interesting one. I do not know where my creative endeavors will take me or whether I will be successful or not. Some say it is all how one measures success. I have spoke upon my ideals of success many times so I will not go into that right now because quite frankly I am tired of blabbering about it.

I am more concerned about whether I should worry that my path of artistic evolution is so liquid that it seems to take on whatever vessel happens to be within reach of me... If I am near a workshop I begin to produce furniture... If my only access is a computer I will write. If it is paints, then I will paint. Some would call it being resourceful. I think of it as creature of habitat. This is why I am so hell bent on having a warehouse. I am interested to see the proportions to which my ideas will fill. Sure, I have a few ideas of large scale work, but I know it is only the beginning. I know that I cannot even begin to imagine the extremes to which my work will grow with unlimited size restraints.

This is something that has always restricted my concepts as an artist and I think now is the time to explore this new avenue of artistic growth. My ideas are becoming stifled because of the constraints of my environment. With greater space, comes more impactful work.

As an artist it is my duty to supply my creative mind with potential scenarios that are conducive to the production of original techniques. I know that by supplying certain elements in juxtaposed situations that I will bring about new ways of thinking. There by creating completely original ideas that I never planned on.

A shock to the system is what I am all about. To plan for the unexpected is what I do best... Actually, to provoke the unexpected is what I do best. Improvising techniques until they become craft is my second nature. That is my true art technique. Through the improvisational techniques of ordinary and extraordinary materials I develop new tools for my style... The style of Post Modern Barbequeism.

Creating work that has never been done before or even thought about is the goal with my art, but not just to create something new for the sake of creating something new... Art for art's sake...

I have never been down with that idea. The new work MUST conceptually hold some weight for its' use. There MUST be a significance for its' being. There are even reasons for accidents in my opinion. There are no accidents only unprovoked outcomes of random awesomeness.

Something I thought about while taking a dog on a poop walk...

An artist must first learn the elegance of line in order to master the technique of drawing, only to realize that true art holds no line at all.

Philosophy is out the window...

Deep thoughts are not best before sleepless days.

Bad movies are not to be wasted while productive dreams dance through finger tips.

Find time in another day to waste today's minutes while work should be done.

Already thoughts of lazy minutes lost on a clock that has not yet begun to be struck.

Everyday falling further behind with taunts of others egging on the mischief of fiddling appendages.

The beginnings of lost trains of consciousness slip through the clinched teeth of determination.

Maybe that's the sound that wakes my dreamless sleep with twists and turns of breathless sweat.

At some point in sometime, something will give way to the expression that correctly suit my creative thoughts.

Until that moment every one that precedes that moment I await.

Until that moment there is no clarity, but the clear fog of indecisive decisions that linger on dangerous ravines and on cliffs that sweet little lemmings edge ever closer to.

On that edge my ambition stands statuesque tilting towards greatness, but reluctant to pursue that one giant leap that is as much faith as it is righteous ego.

So I stand... Struck still with the sight of success bubbling my fears and honesty...

What is an artist to do once one realizes that there is a path to the road of acknowledgement, recognition, and success... All they have to do is what is naturally they have been doing.

This is the time when some fold and go home. Quit and face a life of regret... Or, others seize the moment, double down, throw caution to the wind, and create their own destiny.

These are the thoughts of an artist before bedtime...

Back on track for a bigger badder me....

Well, my first attempt at a table is coming along quite swimmingly and I must say all-in-all art in general has been kind to me this week. Opportunities are knocking. Long awaited ideas are again presenting themselves in the light of achieving possible accomplishment. Another book is on the rise of being a reality.

I would be lying if I said I weren't excited about the moves that I am making right now in the directions of art, but honestly, it feels kind of weird. I am never excited about art. At least not as much as I am now-a-days. Ever since a couple of weeks ago I decided to not hold my ambition back it seems as though things have been falling into place. Nothing significant. I just notice this new energy within myself. A renewed enthusiasm that was lost for many years.

I have always been enthusiastic about my art for the most part... Let me rephrase that... I have always been passionate when it came to my art whether it be negative or positive.

I feel something different about this new found energy. I am finding the will to push through new directions and towards ever increasing ambitious projects with complete recklessness. Ever since pushing to write that novel whether it be good or bad a new beginning has started where anything is possible. I think that Picasso's Marauders was my Everest.

I am now free from the shackles of self doubt at least when it comes to my creative exploits. My ability to multi-task creative projects is nearing an all time high, possibly even shattering previous personal bests.

In these last two weeks I have been cutting, sanding, burnishing zebra wood, solving the problems of constructing a wooden "U" that is 40 inches tall, carving a 18 inch table top, using drill presses, tablesaws, band saws, rasps, spray paint, wood glue, photoshop, and designing an alphabet book of all my work on the computer. This onslaught of creative energy is coming from places I have no idea along with co-writing a screen play.

These are all means to an end, but that end is what I am not sure of. All I know is that I am in desperate need of a warehouse to complete the upcoming projects that I have on my list that will be truly amazing. This top secret installation project I will only refer to as "The God Project". It is the only idea that I have never been able to visually imagine. Though earlier this week I stumbled upon a manufacturer that can supply the material I need to build this sculpture. After searching for ten years off and on I thought I'd give it another try two days ago and... BINGO! I found exactly what I was looking for. So now it is only a matter of time, money, and space before I can build it. That is fine with me because that now means it will be built. The only question is when... Not if.

My goal as an artist...

Today I realized as I am built a table, sand exotic wood from Africa for a painting, and carved my wooden table top that it is time to suck it up and do what I was meant to do....

That is to start blowing away the competition. As an artist it is my mission to set the bar unreasonably high for other artists. I want to come out of left field with ideas, materials, and techniques that they have never thought about. I want to destroy any and all competition.

Many say art is not a competitive contest and to those my only answer is, "good luck with that." because there are going to be artist out there like me who's sole mission is to be better than everyone else. Art is subjective, but quality and uniqueness is still quality and uniqueness. I am no longer going to bother myself with looking for shows. From now on my focus is creating. That is what I do best and that is what I am going to strive towards with never ending pursuit.

My work is growing in leaps and bounds, but it has not begun to start. I am going large... I am going real larger. Both in the physical, concrete realm, and the conceptual one as well. I am going to revisit some old ideas that have been sitting on the back burner for years. This collection of work that I will start undertaking is going to require a warehouse... So, with that being said, by late September UMC Studios will be relocating to a warehouse somewhere in the greater Central Ohio area. Mark my words... That's a promise.

I cannot go into detail as to what my works are going to be, but I will say this, "Nobody is ready." I have been waiting a long time and have quit thinking of alot of ideas I thought were out of my ability with space restraints. So, I am going to get the space and start back up with the art I want to do. Not worrying about where I will display it. I will just start building. All work will stay in the warehouse unless somebody shows interest. This means I will not have to worry or stress about making room. I will just build...

Build,

and build

and build

and build some more...

Basically, UMC Studios is going off the grid for awhile because this work is going to have to be debuted at the same time. I might release some teasers like at the May 6th show in Columbus T.B.A.

This new work is going to be unlike any I have shown in the last decade. If people witnessed some of my earlier works back at 321 then you will know where I am headed. This new work is going to be ambitious beyond any scope that I have tried before. It has been a long time in the coming and I think I am finally ready to take it on.

I swore to myself a long, long time ago that I would never let any of my good art ideas go to waste even if they were experimental and unthought out at the time. I have had years to let concepts digest in my cerebellum and cerebral cortex.

I think, therefore I can.

I feel kind of bad for artist out there that don't know what's about to hit them. They really don't know. Oblivious. It is not my job to push them that should lay on their own creative shoulders. Artist need to step up their game and are going to be scurrying like roaches when the lights come on when they see my new stuff.

I am not tooting my horn or being over zealous. I have been to New York. I have been to Chicago. I have been to San Francisco. I have been to Austin. I have been to Savannah and you know what? I am unimpressed.

Yes, there is some good stuff out there, but great? Nope.... Overrated? Yes! Have I seen anything recently in the field of art that has completely blown me away... Besides Dutch artist Theo Jansen I have not been too impressed. Even he though was not an artist originally but a physicist who became a painter then sculptor.

I think artist have gotten lazy, unoriginal, and a feeling of complacency has crept over the minds of the creative. If it takes me to give the system a jolt and resuscitate art then that's just what I will do, but it will take me some time. Not much time, just a year or so. Even if artist emulate, copy, steal, borrow, or are inspired by my style, oh well. That is kind of the point I am going after.

I am tired of the same ol', same ol'. Artist need to start taking bolder chances. Putting their egos on the line and getting close to that edge of failure/success. I prefer to fail miserably then have mediocre success. At least if I fail outright then there is no question as to what needs to be done differently. EVERYTHING. Plus, with great failure comes even greater success. It is these ideas that propel the truly genius ahead in the world and that is what I want.

Goals are for people that have this idealized few of the world and a step-by-step mentality. I have a MANtality and I am on a mission.

A mission of art...

Brain freeze, frozen, going going, and gone...

Brain freeze,

frozen with anticipation

as I wait.

Hesitating situations

lick palpable palettes

of granulating verbal laxatives.

Living for genuine moments of silence

and

expressed measures of peace.

Still I wait.

No clarity.

No peace.

Nothing.

The chaos of a mind stuck in the gridlocks of thought. Poetic prose intertwined with literary outburst of unorganized thought structure delineate the mind state of this confused artist. Run-ons bleed dry the ancestors of a bloody imagination. The civil war of unrests rages in between waking dreams of new ideas. These concepts were not taught, but learned and burned into my retina from sights hidden to the naked eye. Knowing not how I write or why I, only that I must. Art, be it the same culprit that induces me into a secure state in which I let go of the material and bring in the unthought, prolific mind fat that I swore to never intellectualize.

This is why my head hurts... There is no form or consistency except for that it has no form or consistency makes it all completely consistent unto itself. Such weird thoughts mean I am trying to figure out too much... Maybe I'll stick with poetry... It flows much better through my steady streams and rivers of consciousness.

Shutting abstract doors

and

opening concrete locks.

On a silent sun

expires the tension between strokes of sandpaper to zebra wood.

Spring is new

fresh

and my step had become rusty.

Where there is form.

There is none.

Broken jigsaw thoughts parade in a Pow-Wow of tribal anarchy. I am learning everything again from subjects I never knew I could learn. Smarter than I was told to be and more humble in the face of those less than intelligent, but it keeps slipping out. This nagging intellectual. "Why? I ask" Never any answers, only more questions.

Subjects beyond my realm of understanding are the tasks I constantly investigate. What man seeks questions knowing the answers he will never comprehend. Delusions of genius, but then again maybe not. IQ is an abstract philosophy built on the concepts of others to gauge one's intelligence in accordance with their own standards.

Measuring intelligence is a measurement of soul. There is no true tool that can account for all dimensions of one's thought. Every muscle gets stronger with exercise. The brain is a muscle. Free thought is it's exercise.

Simply thinking is not enough. Challenging thought is true exercise. To seek answers which one cannot understand is to strength the brain. Thought. Ideas. Creativity. The ability to solve problems that plague the mind of the creative. These exercises are essential to an artist of any sort... Why?

In essence an artist job is to create a problem which has no finite solution. There is no absolute. There is no end all, be all. Though through this self created problem an artist must then ask themselves what the correct answer is to solve this problem in accordance with their own specific individual set of learned skills.

Before answering a problem one must first have a question to answer. In order to create a solution to the problem. This is why a painter can often times be stumped by the "WHITE" of canvas or a writer by the blankness of a page. Most would say that these situations occur out of fear and lack of thought. I believe it to be the exact opposite. I believe during these situations one has complete and utter clarity. A profound sense of depth at a deeper understanding than even they them self cannot comprehend on a conscious level.

The artist or writer is actually realizing at that exact moment is that there are infinite possibilities. An entire universe lay on the tip of their brush, or the stroke of their finger tips. At that particular moment the creative realizes their God-like power in a world in which they can create and will reflect their inner most thoughts and emotions whether they want it to or not. The creative cannot hide this. They cannot under a falsity, say, create something that is not them. The mere act of creating is a part of their being. If they create dishonesty of their craft, it only reinforces the inner dishonesty that lay in their soul. Although truth no matter it good or bad is at the soul of all works. There are no lies in the arts.

The arts can be misinterpreted, misleading, unbelievable, fictional, but they can never be wrong. That is the power of art. In all it's righteousness and downfalls art is ALWAYS honest. The question is can people see what honesty and truths about humanity that particular piece of art is speaking about?

This is the question that artist need to answer. This is why some artist cannot move passed that blank page or white canvas.

I have never had a problem with a white canvas or blank page. It is not because I am the most creative person in the world, nor a genius. The reason is very simple...

I have never asked "The Question".

I only give infinite answers of ambiguity.

-Marcus R. Thomas

(just trying to figure out art... That's all)

Another book... Why not?

Okay, so I'm still thinking about creativity honestly. I have been watching a great deal of lectures on the web from very smart people on subjects ranging from everything to disputes in Darwin's theory of evolution to a mathematician's examination of organically grown fractal society structures based in Africa.

My mind has become a sponge and I realize I may be smarter than I think I am. I was never any good at academically learning, but I am beginning to realize that maybe I just never truly felt the credentials of my teacher's were note worthy enough to teach me anything. When people have an unending passion for their area of expertise and apply that passion to a creative solution or pose an interesting question... No matter what subject or how off center it is from art I feel myself propelled toward listening further. Plus, not only do I want to know more, but I want to figure out a way to incorporate this new found knowledge into my art.

The sad, but true thing I am beginning to realize is that I do not know too many bright people in my life.

Yes, I know smart people and intellectual people, and people so full of themselves that I don't know how they get their shirts over their over inflated egos, but I have rarely met a person so intellectually intriguing that they inspire new ideas and applications in the way I use and view my art.

I am guessing this could be considered the same for many out there. I just never realized that there were so many other people out there in the world that could be filled with such passion and creativity that were not in the arts.

Smart people do not interest me. Or even people that know THEY have a high I.Q. I don't know mine, but it is safe to say that I am not the smartest person in the world, but I can definitely say with all confidence nor am I the stupidest.

I have never been able to find myself in a circle of extremely bright people and innovators in their respective fields. I think this would open up ground breaking thoughts to hear their perspectives on anything so as by osmosis I it may become my art. I am after all an absorber. Art is my medium.

Back to the subject at hand, a new book. I am thinking of writing an art book. Not of pictures, but of philosophy, analysis, and my thoughts on the subject. I have been having ideas boiling about all types of things bubbling in my head all generally orbiting the world of art. Not to be mistaken with "THE ART WORLD".

I have read a few books on art, but I have noticed there haven't been many books as of recent written by artist explaining their ideas on art. Artist will give interviews or try and explain their style. I believe this to be a lazy and an egomaniacal way of going about things.

Sure, I want to explain Post Modern Barbequeism, but that is only one short chapter in my life as an artist. To me, it is not the most significant part. At least not yet ( but you never know). There are aspects of art that I want to write about and examine. One biggie is creativity...

Creativity: I want to explore where it comes from. How to create it. How to apply it. Why people avoid it.

This book will be solely based off of my own brain. My own ideas. I want something that I can stand by without question and let it be my convictions on art, no matter how controversial. There is plenty I do not agree with in Art and I want to write an art book that goes beyond the realm of art to the idea of the general creative. Something that would push the bounds of individual expressionism no matter what field.

Right now, this idea is sitting in my head like a big bowl of gumbo with all the fix'ins just floatin' around. I don't know what I want to say, but I know it's something... Got to go watch a movie... Pick this up tomorrow... MAybe.

Creativity...

I like the word. Although it's meaning raises intriguing questions. I wonder now more than ever where I get mine from, but not really. I have always been lucky enough to just have it. Natural, an ability that is as common to me as breathing. I have never had to question it, I can always depend on it, and I have never been in fear of it.

I have always embraced my creativity and if anything... I always ask for more, push harder. I want to know just how far my ideas can go. How far they will go. Sometimes due to limitations I must reign in my ideas, but this is a practice I always reluctantly fight. At most, when near sleep. To wonder about all things seems natural. Although I have come to learn that this mostly is true only in children. Where might I have learned this? Well, from children.

With maturity and age comes understood wisdom, but at what cost? The cost of ideas? The cost of creativity? I have seen it happen to friends. I have seen it happen to strangers, but I have never seen it happen to children.

Just because something is fact does not me it is true. The truth may not always be fact. The truly creative people I have come to admire I do not admire for their wisdom, intellectualness, or skill of craft. What I truly admire about these people is there inventiveness at solving problems. Their abilities to ask questions that many have answered before with fact, but they are quick to not only un-assume these understood facts. Instead, raising a new solution through unorthodox trials to an already proven method. People like this amaze me.

This applies directly to me as an artist, or rather art in general. I do not simply want to be a good artist, or a great artist, or even the best artist. What I want is for ART to be pushed forward.

Now, it may not me that presses it toward some all empowering place, but as long as I keep the creative inertia of Art going that is what I want. I believe it has been stagnant for sometime and it is taking everything I got to get it going.

I am not saying I am God of art, or that it is only on my shoulders, but if all artist took a confrontational stance toward art we as artist could get this thing going somewhere. I don't know where it needs to go, but I sure as hell know I cannot move it all by myself. Although I am trying.

In my search to push my creative energy I am now attacking from all angles through battle fronts of literature, visual, philosophical, and the intellectual. I want to know what are my boundaries. At some point there has to be something that cannot emote an idea from me. The harder I try to push myself. The further away I seem from my true limits. Thus, raising my ideals that I have yet to even hold a match to my true potential.

Problems: I don't know where I need to go, how I am going to get there, and what to do when I reach there. Besides these questions many more confront me, but that is for another time.

The only true battle my creativity has is with sleep... And that is only because I do not dream.

Nothing major, nothing deep...

In a life filled with stress, worry, and eagerness today just wasn't one of those days. A lazy day of accomplishment where everything just seemed to fit into place. Every once in awhile a person is bound to have a day such as this. Apparently for me it is on "The Day of the Fool."

I don't mind. Finished my play which I think is better than I expected. Three acts. Quality material. I think I reached the demographic audience it has been requested for. I am beginning to think there isn't anything I can't do. Within reason, of course. Something amazing has happened to my mind where in that I can achieve astonishing amounts of creativity almost without effort. During my research today for my play I happened upon an intriguing fact. Pluto happens to break into Neptune's orbit once every 248 years. Nothing significant right. Well, it just so happened to do this ten days after I was born on January 23rd, 1979. What are the chances that I would be drawn to a subject matter of a planet, but now only a distant dwarf planet. One in which I make it become a supernova out of spite. Maybe on some scale of the universe there is something that relates me to Pluto. Who knows? Not I... Just something to think about. I guess more for me than you though.

Where do these idea come from...

Recently my words of the written have been flinging off my fingertips with relative easy. Free verse cursed with a theme that I have no control over. My writing appear as if written by someone else of a much brighter intellect. The wisdom of the words brings brightened ideas even to me as I reread what I have written. Or, apparently someone else has written. Poetic essays pick apart my thoughts and dissect them into digestable ideas that I can manipulate into constructive theories that enable me to better navigate through the perfect storm of life. My brain vein pulsates out one after another, word after word. I just sit, watch, read, and with a slight revise enjoy the parade of prose. Thoughts stop for others, but not me. It would be a relief if they did and I can't imagine they will. I give in to the creative only because there is no alternative. Others will argue differently, but they are wrong. Obviously people with few ideas and fewer validated opinions that I won't waste my time on highlighting. Not to say that I am any sort of intellectual. Although, the more I write, the more repugnant the pretentious I smell. My own writings at times are over my own head. I try to understand what I write, but it would be arrogant and pig headed of me to say that I understand everything that I have written. I prefer simple talk, with complex people. A way where I can listen and learn without the pitfalls of my own stupidity to get in the way.

Inner Discovery....

I have found the true meaning of my art. Or rather the art. To erase the personal and find what justifies the afore mentioned. It took a little digging and honesty, but I found it. This makes no sense, I know and I wish I could explain it to you (the reader), but I cannot. This discovery was for myself to learn. I recommend every artist do this search, but only when in the correct frame of brain. To reduce the ego and ask truly honest questions as to why one creates. The world is full of contrasting ideas and opposing values. An artist must be honest with what one is in search of. Once discovering that, erase it. That is only the surface. To truly find the aspirations and inspirations of what one considers the muse behind art. It is usually far deeper than that. Some, if not most, do not want to dig so deep as to discover the meanings of why they do what they do. I like the ugliness behind beauty. The raw behind the polished. The dirt swept under the rug. This is where the essence of an object really is. Eye candy is alright, but truth is enlightenment. Not in the religious sense, just in the human sense.