I have painted this piece, tentatively titled "Fuck It", as a means to better express an inner conflict than words could convey. Naturally, this means I will need to explain in text what this means. You will notice that my name and age is prominent in the piece, which is reflective of the inherent egotism and need to find and confirm identity in an intersectional, postmodern, infinitely interpretative world. I am name, not gender or race, but name, name in infinitude. I have also included my age in protest of ever-increasing socially oppressive forces of ageism in society, and because 33 laid on its side is mm, which his how I feel when consuming freshly-brewed black tea varieties with full cream milk and a teaspoon of sugar on dark melancholy evenings and dew-coated fresh mornings that i seldom see due to chronic insomnia. Incoherent slightly-lavender shapes flow naturally from my intuos 5 Wacom graphics pen in Paint tool SAI, guided by my hand as it reboundingly spasms in reaction to my bottomless battle with psychotic emptiness, psychosexual ennui and a present lack of trousers. I am drawn, too, to draw a spiral, as I commune with ancient stone-age pre-colonial ancestral spirits who carved spirals on rocks to celebrate the infinite cycle of birth and rebirth. Life is a raven croaking, then being handed cough medicine. A sterile death chamber of light fluffy nonthreatening colourscapes, tinged with the smell of pine disinfectant as we await death unnaturally in hospitals, our forests replaced by poles holding bags of drip meds, the delicate babbling brook sounds, chirruping crickets and hoots of birds are bastardised and sexually assaulted by beeps and bloops of machines. The death rattle rolls through plastic piping, lives of numbers and graphs and acceptable, anticipated statistical death rates. Baby blue streaks across the canvas of purple, because do we ever really grow up? Why wear shirts when we can wear pyjamas and kigus? All is infinitely interpretative, all expression is art, all equally valid, equally with and without meaning. Why practice and develop skill when a scribble can inspire, inspire a $47,000,000 price tag, the price to purchase a human soul. Woe.
EUNT
Details
Published:
5 years, 4 months ago
13 Jul 2019 06:14 CEST
Initial: 898511c54bc14281735aa5345e7e2ef5
Full Size: 7cb355457e7ab14417b0d7ce6b330c32
Large: b43aec86cfe8cab25ede4b99af985d1c
Small: e526b6f51b354b06abece9c1f8a89049
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