Conversation with Myself.
Myself: So let's have a think, shall we?
Me: Fine, I have nothing better to do.
Myself: Alright, you start.
Me: I think as an artist there is a point when a work is finished. I work my heart out on something until I am completely satisfied with it. Otherwise it is left unfinished. If it is coming along and does not meet my standards, I will scrap it. But if I care about something, I will forego eating, sleeping, thinking, and all distractions until every word or color or movement is exactly what I want it to be. When it is finished, it is then complete. Nothing more can be done to it- because it is exactly the creation is exactly as was intended. Others may have suggestions or see room for improvement, but then the work was made with room for those imperfections. The flaws are a part of the myself and the art's life just as much as any work reflects its creator. Imperfections do not mean that the work should be changed. Whoever said perfection was art anyways? The imperfections can still be perfection in the artist's eyes, and in the eyes of those who will naturally connect to the work- which are really the only people an artsit cares to reach.
Myself: I think you are full of shit. I think you are just obscenely lazy. You even apply it to your own existance. You never excersize, you are always late, you are more selfish that you think you are, and you are completely overly demanding, and even though you are self-aware enough to recognize these problems rather than change, you accept them as things that give you character. Not because it's the truth, but because you are deeply, horribly lazy, and as much as you hate to admit it, you do have an ego, and the idea that anything pertaining to you would require change is an abomination against your narcissism. You just want so desperately to justify your laziness that you have actually repackaged it in the form of an "artistic perspective", and what is relaly pathetic, is that you have bought into your own bullshit.
Me: What is wrong with flaws though? Why would I even want to be perfect?
Myself: You are such a hypocrite. You think by having imperfections, it actually makes you perfect. Whether or not you want to believe it you are buying into the trend of imperfections as beauty. You might go about it a little differently than most, but that honestly makes it worse. You can't stand people who buy into the barbie world, and you hate those who rebel against it even more for rebeling against an image, when in turn they just become as shallow of an image themselves. You have taken it to the next fucking level. You Are rebelling against the rebellious by going half way back the other way. Are you really so above all that? Or are you just the next step in the evolution?
Me: We can argue all day about my true intentions, and we can analyze my psyche for the rest of our life, but clearly neither of us really knows what our true reasoning is- and we are the voice of reason. So maybe there is nothing hidden to fgure out. Why don't we let us believe what ever we want to believe and trust that?
Myself: But do you really believe that- or are you just being lazy and tired of arguing?
Me: Why are you like this? We never get anywhere! We end up going around in circles, and then somehow by the end of our think we are further back than where we had begun. I think we have too much time on our hands with all this thinking. We should get a job, or actually start a new project.
Myself: See? Even you trying to be busy is really just you being lazy!
Me: There is no winning with you.
Myself: No. But there isn't with you either.
Me. No I guess not. I still believe in my artisitic perspective. Even if it's flawed. I accept and appreciate that.
Myself: You prove everything I say.
Me: Maybe that's okay.
Myself: You are ridiculous. Did I at least make you think?
Me: Of course. You always do.
Myself: Thanks.
Me: Fine, I have nothing better to do.
Myself: Alright, you start.
Me: I think as an artist there is a point when a work is finished. I work my heart out on something until I am completely satisfied with it. Otherwise it is left unfinished. If it is coming along and does not meet my standards, I will scrap it. But if I care about something, I will forego eating, sleeping, thinking, and all distractions until every word or color or movement is exactly what I want it to be. When it is finished, it is then complete. Nothing more can be done to it- because it is exactly the creation is exactly as was intended. Others may have suggestions or see room for improvement, but then the work was made with room for those imperfections. The flaws are a part of the myself and the art's life just as much as any work reflects its creator. Imperfections do not mean that the work should be changed. Whoever said perfection was art anyways? The imperfections can still be perfection in the artist's eyes, and in the eyes of those who will naturally connect to the work- which are really the only people an artsit cares to reach.
Myself: I think you are full of shit. I think you are just obscenely lazy. You even apply it to your own existance. You never excersize, you are always late, you are more selfish that you think you are, and you are completely overly demanding, and even though you are self-aware enough to recognize these problems rather than change, you accept them as things that give you character. Not because it's the truth, but because you are deeply, horribly lazy, and as much as you hate to admit it, you do have an ego, and the idea that anything pertaining to you would require change is an abomination against your narcissism. You just want so desperately to justify your laziness that you have actually repackaged it in the form of an "artistic perspective", and what is relaly pathetic, is that you have bought into your own bullshit.
Me: What is wrong with flaws though? Why would I even want to be perfect?
Myself: You are such a hypocrite. You think by having imperfections, it actually makes you perfect. Whether or not you want to believe it you are buying into the trend of imperfections as beauty. You might go about it a little differently than most, but that honestly makes it worse. You can't stand people who buy into the barbie world, and you hate those who rebel against it even more for rebeling against an image, when in turn they just become as shallow of an image themselves. You have taken it to the next fucking level. You Are rebelling against the rebellious by going half way back the other way. Are you really so above all that? Or are you just the next step in the evolution?
Me: We can argue all day about my true intentions, and we can analyze my psyche for the rest of our life, but clearly neither of us really knows what our true reasoning is- and we are the voice of reason. So maybe there is nothing hidden to fgure out. Why don't we let us believe what ever we want to believe and trust that?
Myself: But do you really believe that- or are you just being lazy and tired of arguing?
Me: Why are you like this? We never get anywhere! We end up going around in circles, and then somehow by the end of our think we are further back than where we had begun. I think we have too much time on our hands with all this thinking. We should get a job, or actually start a new project.
Myself: See? Even you trying to be busy is really just you being lazy!
Me: There is no winning with you.
Myself: No. But there isn't with you either.
Me. No I guess not. I still believe in my artisitic perspective. Even if it's flawed. I accept and appreciate that.
Myself: You prove everything I say.
Me: Maybe that's okay.
Myself: You are ridiculous. Did I at least make you think?
Me: Of course. You always do.
Myself: Thanks.