It makes me deeply envious.
It pulls me out of my skin--floating, dreaming, wandering.
It pushes me deeper inside myself.
I suddenly know something important and new.
I want to rush to my studio to try again.
I am connected.
I recognize I must have a voice, too.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Art, like life, is tamed, hemmed in, corralled, smothered by society’s conformist boundaries, even the most benign of them. For the serious artist, new boundaries must emerge from inner necessity. This means navigating a treacherous space, as boundless and without edge as possible, where risk, exhilaration, disciplined attention, love, failure, diligence, exhaustion all map new boundaries of the world swallowed and released, the boundaries that make possible the gift, the challenge, the prophecy that only you can give.