march 27, 2014 - in times of discpliple and the interiors felt

maybe it's not the drugs. or the lovers. or the wide reaching body of people you know. maybe it's not that personal sense of style or the fanciful clothes. and maybe it's not the poverty, the suffering or even the wealth of experience amassed that makes you an artist. they may be aspects of the life of an artist but they are not his or her work. i think sometimes these things get confused. inspiration comes in many forms but inspiration alone does not invent, or build, or bend wavelengths or cycle sound-waves.

this brief article What Great Artists Need: Solitude by Dorthe Nors is well worth the time, if not for it's thoughtful writing alone or for the monumental question it considers, then for the part where Ingmar Bergman likened his sense of overflowing humanness to a broken tube of toothpaste, his euphemism for diarrhea. well said.

so in solitude then, and with self discipline. could it be so simple? that when without the influence of each other we can feel each other more profoundly and when in the absence of kin, our messy humanity is amplified. it is perhaps in our aloneness when those intangible human truths are most desperate to be, given life by way of form and medium. to be commiserated with, understood, felt, ignored, sensed, misunderstood, feared, desired... art.