 | COMING UNDONE | Jun 29, 2007 |
Not long ago a daughter was born to an ordinary family. The infant grew into a child who was happy and healthy in every way, except that, to her parents' dismay, she never uttered a word. She grew to four years old, crawling, walking, then climbing, but never speaking. One morning her mother put the usual bowl of oatmeal on the table for breakfast. Imagine her surprise to hear from the girl's lips a crystal-clear, "Mama, the oatmeal is too hot!" Mother and father, delighted and baffled, rushed to their daughter. "If you could speak, why haven't you said anything before?" ''Up until now," the child responded, "everything's been fine."
As children we are all artist, every one of us in the world. As we grow, the creative impetus within us often fades, yet outsider art proves the existence of the unending power of human creation. Within each of us is that spark, that shared universitality of human creativity. For some, thankfully, the spark never dies, never finds itself crushed by the norms of adult behaviour and cultural conditioning. It is to these natural and intuitive creators that outsider art owes it existence.
I believe that each human being has a secret. As for my self, my work has made me realise that this secret, in the last analysis, is the same for everyone. Yet everyone believes individually in their own secret - the notion of being unique, that sort of thing. People pretend to believe that this something unique to each individual.
People laughed, disapproved, and criticised me, but as this sort of alienation was neither contagious not dangerous, they didn't see much point in fetching the doctor, and thus able to give myself up to my passion
It's a feeling, you can not explain. You're born with it, and it just comes out. That's you, and that's all about it.
We are pathetic. We are stars.
We are either sad and sickly or we are glamorous and new. We walk in and the choices race through my head. Sad and sickly? Or glamorous and new? Sad/sickly or glamorous/new? Sad/sickly? Glamorous/new?
We are unusual and tragic and alive.
We walk into the throng of parents and children.
We are disadvantage but young and virile. We walk the halls and the playground, and we are taller, we radiate. We are orphans. As orphans, we are celebrities. We are foreign exchange people, from a place where there are still orphans. Russia? Romania? Somewhere raw and exotic. We are bright new stars born of a screaming black hole, the nascent suns burst from the darkness, from the grasping void of space that folds and swallows - a darkness that would devour anyone not as strong as we. We are oddities, sideshows, talk show subjects. We capture everyone's imagination.
As children we are all artist, every one of us in the world. As we grow, the creative impetus within us often fades, yet outsider art proves the existence of the unending power of human creation. Within each of us is that spark, that shared universitality of human creativity. For some, thankfully, the spark never dies, never finds itself crushed by the norms of adult behaviour and cultural conditioning. It is to these natural and intuitive creators that outsider art owes it existence.
I believe that each human being has a secret. As for my self, my work has made me realise that this secret, in the last analysis, is the same for everyone. Yet everyone believes individually in their own secret - the notion of being unique, that sort of thing. People pretend to believe that this something unique to each individual.
People laughed, disapproved, and criticised me, but as this sort of alienation was neither contagious not dangerous, they didn't see much point in fetching the doctor, and thus able to give myself up to my passion
It's a feeling, you can not explain. You're born with it, and it just comes out. That's you, and that's all about it.
We are pathetic. We are stars.
We are either sad and sickly or we are glamorous and new. We walk in and the choices race through my head. Sad and sickly? Or glamorous and new? Sad/sickly or glamorous/new? Sad/sickly? Glamorous/new?
We are unusual and tragic and alive.
We walk into the throng of parents and children.
We are disadvantage but young and virile. We walk the halls and the playground, and we are taller, we radiate. We are orphans. As orphans, we are celebrities. We are foreign exchange people, from a place where there are still orphans. Russia? Romania? Somewhere raw and exotic. We are bright new stars born of a screaming black hole, the nascent suns burst from the darkness, from the grasping void of space that folds and swallows - a darkness that would devour anyone not as strong as we. We are oddities, sideshows, talk show subjects. We capture everyone's imagination.
 | EYES WIDE SLUT |
 @Cell Button Rave Party 17 Photos, 9 comments  @ToiMoi 6 Photos, 4 comments  @Villa Merapi Kaliurang 11 Photos |
 | VICIOUS CIRCLE |
 | MEGALOMANIACS |
 ajeng  Akbar  andi  Ars  Aulia  bambang  cristian  Dicky  dimas  DODI  Dwiannesmita  emonk |
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 | djmanagement wrote on Feb 10 alow bro..... gw lagi di jogja ni..... biasa nongkrong di mana? btw, pernah denger kongkow enterprise yogya? |
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 | zolop wrote on Jan 23 hallo hengky...sorry baru buka2 lg nie..remix gossip nya ok cuman kurang beruntung ga menang ya....heheheheh |
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 | Blog | Jan 6, 2008 |
Technology
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it, Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it, Snap it, work it, quick - erase it, Write it, get it, paste it, save it, Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it, Plug it, play it, burn... morePrevious blog entries: | ||
| Jan 5 | - | Work It Out |
| Dec 22 | - | MISTER GOD THIS IS ANNA by FYNN |
| Dec 18 | - | I WILL NEVER BE |
