Breezy Meditations on Urban Still Life
So what do I mean by that?
BMOUSL. No, it's not the most coherent acronym, and it wasn't ever supposed to be, in fact, you will probably never see me, or anyone else, use that acronym again. You saw it here first—and last.
As artists we torture ourselves, either in the act of creating or in the despair of expectations. So we keep doing, and every once in a while we have to get out of the studio and talk to somebody, someone who might ask the question: what is your work about?
This is a good thing, to be social, especially if you struggle with the pacing and awkwardness of it all; the smiling, the need to appear certain. And at the end of every question the answer is the same, “you know, it’s hard to say.”
But we put our pants on, we mingle—because we’ve toiled. We know what our work is about. We know whose shoulders we’re standing on. And we’ve created a note on our iPhone just in case we forget! (Class, what did I tell ya?) The note reads:
My work is about style.
I know; I wish I could be more academic (not really), but that’s what it is—at the start anyway. Style begets something else, for sure, and hopefully I’ll remember what that is.
(to be continued)
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