Monday, December 4, 2017


"There is nothing to paint anymore.

 We've seen everything from the classical to the absurd.

There is nothing to write anymore.

As many books are shredded as read.

There is nothing to sing anymore.

The once avant-garde is now background music."

   ~ Deng Ming-Dao, Day 338

Everything has been said.

Everything has been done.

"Nothing new under the sun" is a quote attributed to Ecclesiastes, so you know that if the gypsies and thieves included it in the Biblé to assist in mind-fucking the dumbed masses, it was time tested already at that point, thousands of years ago.  So much has been accomplished in the last two thousand years, at a glance, but all is really nothing more than a different spin on the same shit.

How selfish and delusional are we to think that we can do it any better?  In reality, nothing gets any better; it just gets different.  Because we need to create and explore what we currently define as the arts, we settle for different, or better than we used to be, or not as bad as the next person, but it all becomes stale and stagnant. Simply different is underwhelming, and the potential of different is overwhelming, but we also instinctually need it, strangely enough.

One thousand and one people can paint the same scene, and the result will be one thousand and one different paintings.  One thousand and one people can play or sing the same piece one thousand and one different ways.  To expand even further, one person can play or sing the same piece everyday, and the result will be infinitely different pieces, no matter how minute the difference, even if the difference is simply how the piece is heard, to the point where it is impossible to exactly repeat a performance or work.  I can take the same soul to the same location, use the same mood and pose, under the same light, and get an entirely different photograph.  The same book read by different people has a different impact.  The same book read by the same person at different moments in their life has a different impact.  Each of any and all of those variations are completely under subjective interpretation, and none of the thousand and one times infinity results are better or worse than the rest... unless they just totally suck.
I stopped playing music because the infinite possibilities of notes and expression drove me near insane.  I relinquish control with photography, because with control there are too many variables to choose from, and I am not selfish or arrogant enough to live in the delusion that my choices are correct.  Capturing whatever the Universe gives you not only gives you something unique to this moment in time, something that has never been seen before and will never be seen again, but allowing the Universe control is to intertwine yourself into the very fabric of time and space.
Nothing will ever be exactly how you want it, or turn out exactly how you planned, so to truly succeed, you must learn to appreciate what is happening, with or without you.

That is my art.

How I interpret the world is completely unique to me.
You can spend your life trying to copy what has already been done, only to find that it is uncontrollably different, or you can spend each moment appreciating thus.

Everything has been said.

Everything has been done.

... But nothing has been said or done in this moment.

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