Something happened to me recently I wanted to address as an artist, and I think it’s something we should all think about. Artists, when we inspire each other, should be credited and celebrated. The act of inspiration is mysterious. It could come from a set of circumstances, the product of deep study over years of time, that is so costly, in terms of the lives we give to it, often without reward or acknowldgement. It could come as a mysterious force, but for me, it comes from years, and years of work and sacrifice.
As an artist I have given my life to art, and at times I have had that work lifted from me and used by artists, uncredited, and in that, entire communities and histories have had their voices oppressed, for the use of what? A celebration? An award? At what cost does this make to the generations that come after us of whom some may choose the solitary life, in sacrifice, to the work that is so mysterious, so ineffable, as the moment of creation?
The world around us is vast, mysterious, and full of inspiration. We should celebrate that with all our hearts and minds. It’s the greatest gift that we can explore these worlds individually, and come together to celebrate the tremendous, greatest gift of all: life. I don’t understand it, and I hope I never will. Wishing all a deep dreaming night tonight, where we can find our own hearts, so that we can join each other more fully and completely, in the human celebration of joy, sorrow, and all that makes up the fabric of our experiences.
The Reluctant Blogger 