Trash art sabotage

Sometimes I look at my art and try to see it with fresh, objective eyes. It does loiter close to the edge of being seen as trash, you know. This fascinates me. I am interested in sitting with uncomfortable feelings. Why am I uncomfortable? What is making me uncomfortable? Which criteria am I using? Whose criteria I am conditioned to judge against? Who benefits from this? What system am I serving? Am I going to let it block my natural (at least, what I think is close to my inner nature) feelings, curiosity, investigation, wonder… all that great stuff from unfurling into who knows what?

Considering I would love to make a living from my art it is fairly idiotic to make these works on cooking foil, knowing full well they will become kind of trashy. Too much art-market-leading-art-gallery culture polluting my marbles that is. Damn, the market don’t half generate some conservative art. I don’t want to make products for moneyed people to make more money from. Clinically clean, human-stripped, on-trend status symbols for ‘tasteful’ homes. Make it in white. Make it to last. Forget why you started this in the first place and serve Capitalism instead. I’m aware this is self-sabotage, but I’d rather be honest about it.

I’m using whatever freedom I can carve into my life to investigate my art the best I can, in the time that I live, with the resources I have, at a pace I can manage. I will always value time more than money.

There’s something sprawlingly fertile growing in the trash.