Sunday, October 22, 2006

who say's?

So I am here because I am compelled to the page by Judith Scott, a 55 year woman, deaf, dumb and with Down’s Syndrome – an artist - a sculpture. Her work is describe as “totally non-functional objects” – I wanted to laugh when I read this – this “intellectualization” of the art she creates.

“the notion of sculpture is far beyond Judith’s understanding..”

“Judith possesses no concept of art, no understanding of its meaning or function.”

“she does not know she is an artist”

“she is not concerned with the making of art nor does she understand that her “objects” are perceived as art…”

“what then is she doing…?” (this is a question?)

“is is possible that she is obsessively involved in an activity that is without meaning?”

“does serious mental retardation invariably preclude the creation of true works of art?”

“Is it plausible to imagine an artist of stature emerging in the context of massively impaired intellectual development?” (this is a question?)

those who do not avow they are swallowed, transported, taken, knowingly or otherwise to some other layer of time and space while they work – that they create what they do not understand - are not artist's but technicians

Monday, August 07, 2006


decided to finally revisit my site. stopped doing god's work and i guess i felt i needed to stop talking. life is good and at times i am riddled with guilt about it. the unfairness. the inequity of life. the why over the suffering of so many. the how of the gene pool gamble that plops you into one life over the other. i hate watching the news, reading the paper, clicking the links. i'm sounding like i'm in my twenties - truth is i'm long past the passion but some things still stir my core liquids and those tiny bubbles rise up to form a belch of stimulated thought.

begin again....

decided to finally revisit my site. life is beautiful. the sounds, the colors, the light of the moon that paints the lake and reflects it's light upward. the upset of the whole thing is the light shines so bright into my bedroom window i can't f'ing sleep. i mean really. can something be too perfect? i have to get up and pull the blind to shield me from the perfectness of my life. good god. should i begin again?