Artist are inspired by other artist. The push and pull, the ups and downs, the challenges, the rise and fall, the depths of the conscience and dreams that overlap, the tales of wit, and the pleasure of the voice and the uniqueness of each artists' vision. We find pleasure in each other, we find doubt in the darkest hour, the faith I hold to will not be shaken and yet and still the frustrations of life try to make me compromise...
Every artist should have promises they have been given from the Almighty or the promises we make to ourselves. The dreams have to be reality, which no longer make them dreams, and the accomplishments may look like a burden, the weight of it all..but it's lighter when you have faith.
To settle for a mediocre life is to settle as a ordinary human being, and that is not what we as artist are. We see the world differently, we live and breath differently, we observe and capture things that others take for granted. We have the honor to see the very tiniest details in a person's character, every gesture, every beautiful imperfect in a person we lock into and have the strong ability to portray it in front of others that are afraid to admit it. Flaws and all we live with it on our sleeves...we launch out images that stains the conscience and we find awesome ways to show the subconcious...artist...real artist...the phony ones will soon fade out and be no more...Since we have the ability to take in the beautiful and ugly things in life, whether it's death, laughter, babies, skin, sex, faith, joy, the sun, the moon, the passion of many alike and different, the world's various colories, the strength of the human spirit, who portrays it better?...we artist can see so much but we must have the courage to show it...through our own unique, colorful voices...
Artist are inspired by...
I'm always interested to speak with those who are enthralled by Pollock's work. I can't distinguish one piece from the other. I do not see the method to the madness. Rothko, one could argue, composed a body of work that had several pieces that visually seemed connected or similar. However, they seem to present themselves as distinct pieces. For me, I cannot echo this sentiment for much of JP's work but I suppose that is the beauty of art.
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