Great art comes from pain and suffering. Thus, the near starvation, struggling artist. Writers, painters, poets…Our art reflects those with who we live and love. Both kindness and vice.
The need of continuum? Art shall never be beaten by affliction. There will always be another Artist to carry on.
For “Hauling” The Currier Museum commissioned over 100 feet of wall drawings. The exhibition also includes two large-scale works on paper and a 52-foot-long scroll drawing animated by a kinetic sculpture. Curated by Samantha Cataldo, this show is a collaboration with other artists, craftspeople, historians, and New Hampshire citizens. Hauling is inspired by the history of the Manchester region and its people, emphasizing labor and collaboration.
Our thoughts are being pilfered everyday. To think otherwise? Would be unwise. We must educate in a free society. Mind washing from the church pews to the loosely termed ‘news’. Is nothing more than slight and vague attempts at changing who we are…who we want to be. As an existentialist would say, veiled jabs, daily, by ‘society’ are chipping away at the point of just…being.
This is where true art. True poetry. True and honest, expression of what many wish to suppress, should dictate ‘how we live with ourselves.’
The artist is the opposite of the politically-minded individual, the opposite of the reformer, the opposite of the idealist. The artist does not tinker with the universe: he or she recreates it out of his or her own experience and understanding of life. They know that a transformation must proceed from within…outward, vice versa. The world problem becomes the problem of the SELF.
…the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars… Jack Kerouac
The yellowed pages had been many places before.
Just as I have.
In truth, the book had been many places more.
From candlestick to wrinkles in time on the road.
Fabled lines where dreamers who dream can go.
in numerous ways,
an outlet for the abused to avoid the scold.
Everything between leather and lace.
Recollections of wonderful sin…
Where the journey begins.
the ecstasy of paper-thin pulp.
A library amassed with the texture of worn wafer.
An effortless phrase would slay a demon.
Chapters bound with heroic souls who made us safer.
Smoked stained pages absorbing all our childhood fears…