Pinned
The Mower
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence Is always the same; we should be careful Of each other, we should be kind While there is still time. - Philip Larkin
I have 160,000 some followers here so I thought I should just say that the vast majority of you have been really great.
I have likely wasted too much of myself online, but I always have to defend blogging as, for me, it created a kind of colloquy, where looking for things to post and seeing other's comments and choices on their own blogs, has been very educational in my learning about art.
I think i understand, better than I used to, some tributaries of art history and the immense contributions of sincerity so many artists give, free of the expectations of wealth or notoriety.
The art world's stupidity and marauding avarice have turned a lot of people off, but I'd suggest that there's still little better for you than engaging in self expression in whatever medium you might apprehend best
Art won't save the world but it might save a piece of you that others can't defile from their predatory perch that longs to rob you of yourself, sometimes just for the practice of doing so.
Maybe I'll come back at some point sooner or later, or quite possibly, this is it. My little routine feels irrelevant right now. I imagine it always has been.
I hope all of you find some bright moments inside yourselves. Outside is truly madness.