What is this Art thing anyway?

 

Lately, in the charcoal grey of the night, while all around me are sleeping as they should, strange thoughts enter my head.

 

Tonight’s little escapade into irrelevance led me down a path of the manner in which an artist grows. Not that their height means a lot to me – but I mean their artistic abilities.

 

I have discovered that my own art needs feeding.

 

I need to become passionate about a concept, an idea a colour even and then I am fed by the input of others.

 

I work best when I am working with a co-photographer/artist/model etc… I tend to parasitically feed from them.

 

Not that I need their ideas; I seem to need them, to express mine. I call it collaboration – but I know that I am moved by shards of light, by the texture and shadowing of skin, by the tiny gob of last night’s mascara that clings desperately to an eyelid, the shades caused by the pressure of fingertips on skin, the striking difference in the highlight of a collar bone, the colour changes of the fall of hair, the mysteries that are hidden behind flashing eyes… and the list goes on, ad infinitum.

 

I say I am fed by others, and the contrary exists also. If people get in the way of my self-expression, my art, my passions… I walk away… no; I run away before they do me damage.

 

Of late, my inspiration has been waning. I am disappointed in many of the subjects that see my work, approach me, and want me to be someone else. I have refused shoots on many occasions because our eccentricities are unmatched.

 

Oh well… this happens. Back to re-editing the work of other days.

 

 

 

“I love your nudes, will you shoot my graduation shots?” (so does she get an accountant to fix her stove?)

 

“Can you make me look like her, she looks so free – but of course I wouldn’t dare go nude.” (D’uh!! Guess why she feels free!!!)

 

So I am not always inspired to work with every model/subject that comes my way.

 

I also ask myself about how others that rely on the creative process, ready themselves for a project. I know writers have blocks, and spurts, and manic days and doldrums. What are the triggers for them? Is it a fight with the boss, a win at the track, or that contented moo that follows a great meal?

 

I have friends that are great photographers, how do I tell them that they are heading along a dead-end alley way and need to revive themselves. That they need to be free enough to express without working on creative ideas while someone/something else is restraining their passion and empowering mediocrity?

 

How do I spell out to a 19 year old model, that screaming is the best way to start letting passion slip into their portfolio, that they are being sexy, not sensual because they are enabled by so many, so often, when they play sexy? How do I explain to a redneck boyfriend that his girlfriend wants to explore the sides of herself, that he thinks are just for him, when in reality, they are just for her? That he will only restrain the inevitable for so long, before reality bites and he will be the first casualty?

 

So all this rambling started with a direction and then entered a Twilight Zone… that’s OK… suffer.

 

Just fill in the poll with any old thing, I am not conducting a survey for a thesis!

 

 

 

My art is triggered by external influences.

 

My art is stifled by external influences.

 

My art is from within, nothing gets in my way.

 

My art is coming soon, everything gets in my way!

 

What is this Art thing anyway?


 

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