who is this for?
acrylic on canvas 11x14in
We listen so closely to our own music. Searching for the faults,
assuming there must be so many things wrong. Trying so hard
to be aware of all our potential blindspots.
Emotional blindspots.
Creative blindspots.
Aural blindspots.
Blindspots in taste.
Blindspots in taste?
Who is this for?
There is always a feeling of something missing in the work we do. If we are always looking—
we will always trick ourselves into thinking something is there.
—
What if we just don’t know what to say?
Do we have anything to say?
I’m sure we do.
We just need to be honest, whatever that means. However that translates into the medium of the week.
Over simplification.
Listening is hard these days.
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Where has our confidence gone?
It comes and goes.
Like the tides.
A drought.
Dried up.
Brain fried.
To live is to die.
Death.
How do we kill what holds us back?
How do we identify the resistance?
