WHY DO WE MAKE ART?

Why should I read this?  Why write about a bunch of stuff that never happened?  And worse still, why would I want to read it!

I work.  I work and I work and I work.  With the idea of room and board in mind.  I work for four or five people.  Just in my house.  Wife.  Mother.  Kids.  Sister.

Then I work for my employers.  I am afraid of falling through the cracks.  Off the wire.  Into an unnamed place.

Saving Private Manning.

I would like to walk you through my version of why we make art.  I believe it is what distinguishes us from the fascists.

Some people think it’s fluff.  Yuppie fluff around a dying world.  I am not a yuppie, but I welcome even the idea of fluff around anything.  I’m thinking purple swirling candy floss and my little girl is happy.  My little boy.  Me.

Take your heroes seriously while you can.  Or they will disappoint you forever.

Forever is a long time to try to imagine.  When someone says, “Never Forget” I immediately think: “Forever.”

A long time to live in a static realm.  Why do we want to learn stuff?  Useless stuff that never even happened?  That, my boy, is History.

Walk with me now.  Through 49 frames of the artist’s mind.  Colorful permutations of the apocalypse.  The way Isaac Hayes had it.  The way Annemarie Schwarzenbach had it.  The way Morrissey had it.

My point: They have it.  They never had it.  They has it.

Take your heroes seriously before they disappoint you eternally.

My shrine….

IMG_4073

IMG_4072

IMG_4071

IMG_4074

IMG_4075

IMG_4076

IMG_4078

IMG_4079

IMG_4080

IMG_4081

IMG_4082

IMG_4083

IMG_4084

IMG_4085

IMG_4086

IMG_4087

IMG_4088

IMG_4089

IMG_4090

IMG_4091

IMG_4092

IMG_4093

IMG_4094

IMG_4095

IMG_4096

IMG_4097

IMG_4098

IMG_4099

IMG_4100

IMG_4101

IMG_4109

IMG_4110

IMG_4118

IMG_4119

IMG_4119

IMG_4117

Look at this last picture again.  You’ve seen it before.  But now it has all this accident and vulnerable anger.  That is History.

Q: Why should I read or watch anything when I gotta work?

A: You don’t have to.  It’s entirely voluntary and seldom encouraged.

IMG_0659

This is my favorite store in Kensington, Brooklyn.  I’ve never actually been in, but I seem to keep stopping in front of their store and photographing their front windows.  Last week it was a baby, which I used to describe how I felt when I was on Facebook.  This week it’s

“WHY MAKE ART?”

Why make art when it is just more work?  I work all day.  Why would I come home and work even more on…art.  Deflection.  Artifice.  Acting like some droopy kid who can’t put his arms in his sleeves?

BRAD. IT’S SNOWING. AND I MISS YOU.

 

(Clearly, I attenuated a few frames.  There were actually 50, but I wrote 49.  And then the technology got in the way, so I made a few quick decisions.  There’s probably 29 frames in this post. But it was only in my haste to get this out to you.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))My only sin is worrying.))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

I work and I work and I work.  Like a Prince.  Like a cockroach.  Like Hamlet.  Like Gregor Samsa.  Like Bartelby.  Like Bradley Worrying Manning.