Wednesday, December 7, 2011

I have no idea what I'm about to do...

What if secretly I want…
to be…
making the best artwork I could possibly make, something that would not make me envious of anyone else’s method, tools or style, a message that can’t come from anyone but my loudspeaker. Boom. A cult following, a folk hero, an anomaly against all odds, part of a lineage of bad-asses.
What I want is nothing short of changing how you, me and them inhabit and experience reality from every point forward. Imagine that at stake is that we’re all going to die and we won’t know any other present or future that we don’t make ourselves, right-fucking-now. There’s no breaks, no balance, no regrets, no second-guessing, no dancing around it:
Gut Roulette.
Epic-ness will not be measured in size, scale, money or documentation, it will be felt like an orgasm, it will leave you gasping for breath, needing some hydration, but hungry for more.
Pleasure, Ecstacy, Total awareness
We will become what we thought was beyond us, what we thought was the job for someone else, we will be confidently achieving our demands, we won’t just be heard, we will be running the show and letting everyone know where to go if they wish to volunteer.
We’re not building permanence, we’re not building comfort or satisfaction, we’re building change in ourselves through everyday moments of revolution that can take a shove, fire a gun straight and maneuver deep cuts like a razor.
If you’re scared there’s a good chance you’ve got your head on straight, if you think you know what I’m talking about, you wouldn’t be smiling, I’m talking about meeting a side of you that you don’t let out because it can do a lot of damage if it's not focused, it can make you want to kill yourself if you’re left alone with it for too long.
I’m talking about the confidence to achieve your own high expectations, the ultimate life you can never quite describe, like drugs without the taking anything into your body, it’s the nuclear core in you,
burning clean.
Make your plans, plot the points, because tomorrow could be the first day you forget how you used to live.
Face your fear, break a leg, whatever doesn’t kill you, was meant for the other guy that was right next to you. Every obstacle is meant for you for leverage, so bid your time well, calculated risks. Goodluck. Have fun.

(I'm attempting creating writing stream of conscious text based on whatever I'm feeling at the moment, which currently is that I'm not taking as many risks as I'd imagine I'd try in grad school... but I think I know what the feeling is, and I want it.) This text is dedicated to a fond memory of being around Duke Greene, Graham Hannah, Walt (shop tech) Janine Surma and David Blunk.

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