Good day to you, fine reader of this. Welcome to the second sentence of this article.
Today, I feel like making an attempt.
Not just any attempt though, no. It shall be a full-on, attemptation.
But that's not even a word and luckily, I don't care.
I can explain!
What you're witnessing is my brain unraveling; and when I say, "My," I am referring to, me.
Who am I? It's me. I already said that. NoNamesLeftToUse The Writer/Artist Himself.
I can be really clever sometimes so I'm dragging this out before I actually get serious. Over the years I've noticed if people are able to power through my rough edges, they eventually start to like me.
Notice how you've started to like me?
I have. And I like your style!
Along the path known as this life of mine, I don't know what the hell I did right, but somehow, miraculously, people actually started to enjoy my shit. The good shit anyway. There's some bad shit but I'll just shut up about that in case you're new, since a good first impression goes a long way, until you fuck it up.
As many of you don't know, I've been traveling through some hectic times lately. My mind is going all loopy. Having problems staying focused. Plenty of those cloudy unwanted thought storms keep blowing in and being destructive, then blaming me for the mess.
Normally I'd just bounce and vanish when things get like this. Take some time to clear it all out. Get away from everyone and everything before the stuff that's bugging me rubs off on them somehow.
Not in the business of ruining lives, as that only makes the pain stay, rather than go away.
Still trust myself, of course. Though I can be a little much at times, and way too much for some people, I make damn sure to refrain from completely losing my mind, grabbing that Bic, then burning everything in sight like I'm some kind of an asshole who can't even make toast.
People do that, you know.
There's even one dude out there who's really starting to piss me off. And can you believe I saw him spewing out some recycled ignorant nonsense like a bullshit fountain?
Probably.
But what's even more amazing is I just strolled on by; didn't say a word.
Progress. I'm making progress.
What's cool is there could be fifty people or more right now who all think I'm talking about them; so I figured this would be the best way to fuck with all of them in one shot.
I'm joking!
This is actually about art.
Bet you didn't see that coming; while being engulfed in a performance.
Much like that crowd of fifty, who only exist in their minds and who are now looking at themselves deeply and internally, I too noticed something about myself just the other day: my name. Specifically, the part I tacked on years ago just for shits and giggles.
The Writer/Artist Himself.
How fitting, in a world where manual human creativity is seemingly going extinct.
I write. I produce digital art. I do it all myself. From my mind, to my hand, for your eyes. Several years of experience, thousands of witnesses and the evidence; all locked in a blockchain.
It's almost as if I saw this coming.
Yet I still get the question: "Did A.I. do that?"
I know people mean well, but that's some kind of a strange new element not seen in this universe before. Difficult to process. Struggle with it every time I go to start a new project (and I know I'm not alone).
Incomplete projects are building up. WIP folder getting whipped.
"Do all this work. Spend all this time. It'll just blend in with the noise. Won't even occur to people it was actually made by mind and hand," say my thoughts, every time.
Even the mathmagician is sitting there feeling like they've lost their special powers. The writer is afraid to write because it won't be perfect. The educator doesn't know if they've truly reached their students and the students worry their natural abilities will go unrecognized. Confidence levels across the board are at an all time low, to the point people aren't even comfortable talking about it.
Of course I don't care about what others do with their lives, and change is to be expected, so you learn to adjust, since you can't adjust them.
I took a long walk to get here; steps I'll never forget. Literally, actual steps.
What I'm experiencing is nothing new to me, yet it still took some reflecting and processing to come to that realization.
Feeling like digital art will be overlooked, underappreciated, and even disrespected; that's how I got my start.
Roughly a decade ago, was down to my last bus ticket; had no money. Decided to walk and save that ticket for as long as I could. Always passing little art galleries and that day, I decided to stop in.
I was met with cold silence.
I'm looking around, being watched, then asked this woman what she knew about digital art. She basically cut me in half with snotty bitch tone and said something like, "If you want a poster, you can go to Walmart and buy one for a dollar!"
Overpowered by a bad attitude, as she surrounds herself in overpriced paint collecting dust and doing nothing; I left.
Really I just wanted to get to know someone in the art world; had no clue where to begin. Thought a conversation would be a good starting point. Had no idea, "Digital art," was a fucking swear word in those places.
If you were there and knew the whole story, you'd understand why the rest of the walk home, with every step, would just piss me off more and more.
Those days, everything in life seemed to exist just to hold me back, shoot me down, piss on me, burn me, force me to snort the ashes, then call the horrifying hallucinations the only dreams I'll ever have.
Was even walking into the wind.
"I'm better than this!"
Said my thoughts.
Years later one realizes those trials exist to push you, make you better, because you needed a good kick in the ass and a clean boot was the only thing they had that day.
All it was, was the fuel I required to take me where I wanted to go, my way.
Fuck the roads and fuck the people saying I can't drive there; I'll walk.
If you've been around me for awhile you may remember elements of that story coming to the surface. It means so damn much to me. Something I'll never forget. Basically one of the first pieces of the puzzle that makes up this entire picture.
A picture that still isn't finished.
Now I'm learning new lessons.
Those gifts that fall from the sky then land in your mind while you're busy thinking and when you least expect them.
I make a terrible shadow so when I need to advance, I sneak into the heads of others, view the world through their lens, then leave without a trace and a mind full of grace.
Way back when, that woman in the gallery was feeling just like I am, today. She must have felt like a digital artist was somehow a threat to her method of being; an artist that paints and I was the enemy with my digital wizardry. Similar to how over a century ago, portrait painters wanted to murder photographers and bust those cameras over their heads for stealing the selfie business.
A.I. comes along and I'm supposed to feel threatened though?
How? It's not my fault a bunch of amateurs stepped in, saturated their market with mass-produced factory made knockoffs, forever devaluing their brand, product, and services; all within ten minutes.
Really no different than the selfie business. Amateurs made it so there's nothing special about a selfie, aside from those spots on the mirror and maybe the toilet in the background. They'll work to make themselves look good, ruin it with standardized aftereffects, then settle for likes and digital happy face stickers pouring in from random creepers.
Add in an actual photographer; they make people and even themselves look incredible while making good coin for it. A good portrait painter is making even more. Even the sketch artist on the path in the park is still kicking ass, provided they can find someone who can actually sit still in this day and age.
Anyone capable just went 10x?
One big mindfuck.
The day many fear is already here, and I'm just staring at it in the face, as I walk on by.
And in a sense, we're all enslaved by our tools anyway. Can't even eat without one.
As you think of a fork and I point to the hoe.
Didn't need A.I. to come along and teach us that, though many using it for various purposes have yet to realize and probably won't notice until the day they learn the hard way: their life depends on it.
Hardly an advantage. Just a new way to jump into the water then spin around the drain. Still need to learn how to swim.
Boots are a great tool as well but when I put them on, I still want to be in control of where I'm going. My footsteps are mine. My footprints are mine.
Is that selfish?
So here I am at a crossroads, looking at those people over there. Observing each one being seduced by a new set of tools, caving under peer pressure, then exchanging the freedom to be in control for a quick and easy fix. Then changing entirely, forgetting who they were, while others notice a certain element or a spark they once had is now missing. People sense it, feeling deprived of the creative energies once surrounding them; can't even trust what they see anymore.
Wait a minute...
A crack pipe is also a tool.
Have a nice day.
