Art is not my vocation, nor is it my hobby. It is the fabric of what I am. I do not determine what it does, it determines what I do. It possesses my every waking and sleeping thought and pushes me in the direction that it wants to go; it allows me to see the world from multiple viewpoints, it nourishes me, it denies me, it drives me to agony and ecstasy. If everyone loves what I do, I am doing it wrong. If another artist does what I do only better, it will make me a better artist in ways I cannot imagine. The insecure yet vain artist must endure ridicule, jealousy, rejection and criticism with a smile; remembering that we are not only speaking to people in front of us, but to generations in the distant future; bending time as only an artist can.

16 May This entry was published on May 16, 2022 at 4:45 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.