I believe in a truth. A truth so powerful that it stems from my
toes, rises to my gut, tingles my spine, and comes out of my mouth like a force
to be reckon with. I believe in a truth
that hurts my teeth, makes me clench my jaw, and tighten my fists. I believe in a truth that makes me look past
all of these things in order to help me feel truly alive. I believe in a truth that brings tears to my
eyes, touches my heart, hurts my soul, and gives me an emotion, any emotion, so
powerful that I can no longer breathe from excitement. I believe in a truth, a truth so strong that
I can be knocked down with a feather, because that is the core truth of
art. Good art. Bad art.
Odd art. Amazing art. Funny, silly, stoic art. Overly priced art. Under priced, grab it for a steal art. Art that moves me when I hear it, when I
smell it, see it, touch it, taste it. I
believe in art I can swim in and run over and gaze at; art that I can walk
through and come out the other side knowing that I have changed. And though not all art is going to belong in
a museum, and though not all artists will have autobiographies written about
them when they are dead, or alive, I believe in art and its makers’ combined
power. The power that can communicate,
emulate, imitate, and show me, and all others who are willing to see, the human
condition. That is an art I want to see,
and that is an art I am hoping to make.
This feeling, this lifestyle, this ability to forever impact and change
a person or people, is why I do what I do.
This is why I am an artist.
