Some Thoughts on Art

What is art? To me art is the name I give to the system I use to solve whatever problems arise in my life. Whatever I love or whatever bothers me, whatever it is I can put it into my art. I have the freedom to change my life in more than symbolic ways by using symbolic means. It is like my own little self guided therapy practice. I can use it to instigate situations I'm afraid of and to process emotions and thoughts that just circulate in my brain if i don't call them out and name them. It is like my journal, my diary, my dream log, my autobiography that unfolds before me and after me. I can't make sense of what I'm doing when I'm in the midst of it. I have to react impulsively and hope that in this impulsive reaction some sort of truth about my priorities shows itself. I can use art as a mechanism to prescribe more of whatever I feel like I'm lacking at the time. Maybe I'm too stressed out and just need to create a circumstance where I can have fun and don't feel pressured? Maybe I use it as a construct to force myself to learn certain skills that I might not get to learning without the pressure of a public showing. Like the tank project. It is a bit over my head in terms of craftsmanship but since I've been out of school craft has been on my mind a lot. I want to make more than just versions of what I envision. I want to make a fully realized version that doesn't get soft at the points where my skills break down. I don't want to be afraid to do something because I don't know how. I want to use art as a kick in my own ass. A reason to do things I might not otherwise get to. A mechanism to put positive pressure on myself to make progress and not be lazy about my life. I'm really happy that I committed to art in some way fairly early on because now I don't really see another realm I'd like to participate in more. Art is what I make it. It is really just an excuse to live a life that has a little more consciousness in it. A little more intentionality a little more poetry. Not lame poetry that makes flourishes when none are needed but the crude kind that rumbles along roughly yet still finds a special kind of beauty in the details of a confusing and awkward life. I don't need life to be extraordinary to feel like it has been extraordinary. Still in awe of the smallest details after all of this time. Still baffled by the most regular parts of life and still maintaining a childlike sense of wonder in the face of it all.