So I’ve been mulling over something about art.
Truly good art inspires you to do it yourself.
It gives the audience something of empowerment.
It goes beyond the guitar riff that gets stuck in your head–it is the guitar lick that causes you to jump up on a chair and play air guitar.
It goes beyond a painting or picture that makes you ponder and appreciate the genius of the artist–it makes you want to go paint your own picture, take your own photograph.
It does not flatter or venerate the artist, but instead makes the ordinary extraordinary; the extraordinary ordinary in a way that opens your eyes to the tragic, comic beauty of this thing we call life.
It is complex simplicity that is honest and humble and mysterious and bewildering…
It is why the greatest, most-threatening truths are contained in both scripture and song, folktale and epic. Why they are echoed in every honest children’s story and every heart-felt pagan myth.
… And in (somewhat) unrelated news, I am probably going to be pasting up rough drafts of writing up here. I work well with deadlines and objectives, so I’ll be putting un-edited thoughts up as they come. They might be raw, so don’t consider it a presentation, but rather the occasional (mutual) sneak peek into my subconscious.
… And I want to watch this. Badly.
… And now it’s time for me to go clean the tub.