Art

I am an “artist.”

I slapped quotes around artist  for at least two reasons. First, how does one actually qualify to be an artist? Is training required? Or does I just make stuff and wait for those laurels to be thrown at my feet. I know. It’s harder than just making stuff. I mean, I make eggs. I don’t hang them on the wall.

And the second reason? Whether I am an artist or not, I dig creating music, poems, stories and digital art. Hey, if I do not qualify as an artist, can what I create still be called, “art?” (There is some kind of chicken and egg thing going on here,  but it’s not my thing to figure that out.)

I do know this. People who create stuff want other people to see their creations. Some might say, “Oh I just create art for myself.” Mostly hogwash I think. Art is for others.

Writers write for you and to you. Singer-songwriters want to move you or at least get your toes tapping. Art is about making statements, being provocative, discovering new beauty in beauty and new ways to experience sadness.

Essayist and New Yorker columnist, E.B. White, once wrote that good writers are arrogant. They actually believe others should not only read their stuff, but experience some sort of transformation because of what they read. Okay, I can’t recall if that is exactly what he wrote, but “arrogance” was a central theme.

Anyway enough dribble. If I keep going I am going to end up pitching a poetic that is bound to irritate all the true artists out there.

Use the nav to access my art. Whatever you think of it is fine with me.