Brain Spew II
2002-11-30 7:57 a.m.
I've avoided art so long because the more I've been a part of it, and the more I learned about the people I've shared it with, the more I hated it. The lack of creativity in the world disgusted me. Everything became iterations of everything else. Everything was based on everything else. Nothing .. or VERY rarely would anything stand on it's own and make everyone wonder where the fuck it came from.
Every wall painting looked like every other one. Every poem fit a category. Every writing did the same. Every book. Every photo. Every THING fit a mold. The lack of chaos in the world around me has been overwhelming...Everyone requires categories to be such a thorough part of their lives. Every person, item, object, feeling, every last thing having to do with senses had a name. A category. The idea of originality was an iteration of an idea.
I began to see patterns so thoroughly ingrained with everything else around it, that it looked like a puzzle cardboard before the pieces had ever been cut out of it. Paintings looked like photographs that looked like poem s that looked like songs that looked like sketches that looked like movies that looked like real life that looked like everything else. I felt alone. Nobody understood my hatred of categories.
I felt that I was the rain man of the modern world. Incredible feats of the mind with zero impact on the world around me. Every time I began to study something. Like writing I found that the only way to gain respect was to become a part of a category. And then once part of the category, become the best in the category. Then create your own subcategory, which is considered your "style." But why doesn't anyone understand that the true master is (s)he who can imitate all categories and subcategories and be the best in every style. In every sub style. In every iteration of every sub style, and THEN have their own category, which will eventually be named after that person or group, because the rest of the world will require a handle. So they can try to grasp it.
And this was true in every form of creativity, which includes everything in human life. djing, writing, painting, speaking, silence, driving, eating, politeness, conversation, gestures, any thing and everything we do has a category and can be judged and handled according to that fact.
I had failed to see the creativity in that.
And I had failed to see the creativity in me. As the more I practiced anything I tried, the better I got. and the better I got ,the closer I was to a category. So the more original I was the more I fit into a category.
Endless.
So in despair, I've quit. The towel has been thrown in. and these days, I have sudden bursts of energy in which my hands remember how to speak my minds language, and they start to move before I can stop them, and suddenly I am spilling my guts over a 19" inch light bulb on my desk with dark inscriptions that symbolize sounds when deciphered by out eyes.
I don't know how to find my way back. Am I more intelligent or the most ignorant? Or just plain nuts? Personally, I've never considered anyone more intelligent or better than anyone else. Just more practiced within a specific category. And If you despise the rules then it's hard to get anywhere because everyone tell you you're doing it wrong, because telling people they are doing it wrong is the right thing to do.
And so many times I think a drink will cure me. Or another smoke, but really I enjoy them because I enjoy life. Kinda sorta. It's strange to have to shut your mind up just to hear yourself smile.
I'm done. I'm going to the bar.