kool tears and dreamz
art and fashion: a lense of hope
What's up with artists?
Are they okay?
I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. It's sordid and foul. I've started to notice that I cannot really understand people at all. Maybe I can, but in a strict way.
I should just stop reading awful blogs about art and fashion. There is nothing more pretentious than saying good is bad and bad is good just because it's trendy. I don't feel the individuality fashions states as true. When I see runaway shows, even ready to wear ones, I do not feel the excitement as person in my area would feel. As an artist (a vague term but whatever), I can't understand what's so glamorous about a bunch of tall and frail models who wear weird clothing combinations. I've seen good looking models who did not confuse me with their appearance but, unfortunately, their beauty was ruined by a ridiculous outfit. Leave the absurd to the fantasy world. Some shows look uncanny. Even Trevor Henderson's cryptid creatures look way more comfortable to the eye than those shows.
Also, I don't understand my fellow artists colleagues. They say art has no rules but then say art has to be daring. If it doesn't have rules then you can't state that it NEEDS to be daring as that is a rule you're imposing. What kind of hypocrisy is this? They're walking contradictions.
When I speak about art, I refer to visual arts. The meaning of art can be associated with visual arts or it can mean a skill, for example, the art of persuasion (mind games probably), the art of war (military tactics and psychological manoeuvres).
Since I see the world through a logical and patterned way, it's a bit difficult to understand certain concepts.
Though, as an artist, I'm able to use sensible side to produce art (as in using the senses, like vision, hearing, smell,etc...)
I'm tired of seeing degenerates making vomited pieces and calling it art. Gallery art has become bland, with no substance, no message, no culture, stripped of beauty and meaning. It got packed with snobbish figures and depressed rich people who fund this madness.
The only thing keeping the ugliness away, even if for brief moments, it's the world outside and its nature.
When I see those nuthouse wannabe temporary houses I feel a bit relieved that it's surrounded by beautiful greens, flowers blooming and enough sunlight to give the glass maniac buildings some colour. Those types of houses and apartments are so hideous that they probably have their own supply of Prozac for its residents.
I guess I have to find out how to make a difference in my area of expertise. I hope I can become an amazing artist.