Monday, November 20, 2006


What is art?
Oscar Wilde said in his preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray that art is useless. He also said that a work of art does not say as much about the subject it's on as it does about the artist.

As I was walking through MOMA yesterday I started thinking about myself. Who am I? I remember being a mathematician, I remember being a scientist, a business woman? And yet most of all I remember trying to be an artist. Unlike the classics who painted art for it's beauty, I am a narcissist. Art for me, as for many others is about self discovery, it's about my feelings that are inflicted on or by the objects around me. Take this self portrait of Frida for example... it makes me sad.. but my sadness makes Miro's geometrical smile sad.

And then you wonder, if a work of art is all about individuality and expressing yourself, the worst fate you would want for your art would be to be in a museum. It would be.. well it would be like life, because in life it's never just about you, it's always about you in relation to others. Even if you are a recluse, the relation still exists, it becomes defined by its absence.

I was watching people dressed differently and comparing them with pieces of art. If your clothes could tell a story what wold it be? Would it be that you want to be cool, you want to be different, you don't really care, you have money..? Would it really tell who you are or what other people expect you to be? As I am looking for the balance between being different and conforming to the norms of what is expected of me I can't help wonder whether I am not merely a product of society. Who would I be in a world where we were all made out of three forms of gas like in one of Asimov's stories? Would I still hurt, would I still work hard, would I still long for the love that is forbidden?


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