A Pride

There is a particular sentence in yesterday's blog post that is incredibly insulting. I stated: "My work is a series of failed experiments in artistic expression, none of which have brought me a bit of satisfaction." To all of the many incredible artists with whom I've worked, I'm sorry for declaring such a thing without clarification. My point was simply that I am never fully satisfied with my work - the part that is my job. (This is said of all perfectionists - I am certainly nothing special.) What I must do is chill the fuck out and realize that artistic expression is a flash in time - a snapshot. Five minutes after that moment, the artist's viewpoint may change - the world changes - and so the art changes - and may no longer please the artist or audience. It is a maddening chase, is it not? If an artist is fully "present" - then his/her work is always in the past - leaving a vast emptiness to the front and a line of relics in the back. Is this why so many artists never fill the void?

But to not be satisfied is different than to not have pride. And I have a lot of pride in my endeavors - and even more pride for those who have been by my side. The nagging demons in my head have nothing to do with you. I am filled with joy when I think of the artists who have been so gracious to share with me and of those who have handed me my opportunities. So please...don't misunderstand my indulgent and melancholy ramblings...

I am proud of my work. I am proud of your work. I am proud of any artist who works hard to filter his/her inspiration through a rigorous exercise in craft. That's integrity. That is something of which to be most proud.

And now...I have more chasing to do.