Last night I was watching “The five obstructions” by Jørgen Leth and Lars von Trier. I have watched it before, only this time it kicked off a train of thoughts about art and the urge to create. I won’t go into any details about the movie, so if you haven’t seen it just consider it a point of reference. The following isn’t about the movie anyway. It is about little me – and pretty preposterous, come to think of it.
To me, interesting art is personal art. And personal art is art created not only by but also for yourself. As soon as you start creating it for others, it loses the edge that makes it interesting. I can be entertained by the stuff that was made with an audience in mind, but rarely can I be intrigued by it. Why is it so?
I believe the answer to this question to be connected to the question of art in itself. Why do we make it in the first place? Well, deep down at the bottom of our vast chemical souls, I think we create in order to be able to stand ourselves, to face ourselves. We’re all well aware of the overall pointlessness of our creations, but still we keep at it. Some insist that they do it for the sake of others, but only they who readily agree that they do it for themselves and noone but – only they can I truly relate to, and be truly inspired by.
I guess it’s all got to do with being in tune with yourself. If you aren’t in tune with yourself – if you aren’t clear about your own basest motives – your creations just doesn’t ring true. That’s why it’s such a fucking cacophony out there! It gives me a headache everytime I walk out the door, or log on to the internet. So if you wanna play God, please admit to yourself that’s what you’re doing. Don’t give me any bull about you knowing what I want. Rip out your own fucking heart, and maybe then I’ll come have a share of it.
Sorry, this wasn’t meant to be reproachful or admonishing. It just came out that way.