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You
know what is for me the most dificult thing about being a visual artist?
—It is that although images have only relative value in a restricted number
of fields of human endeavour and are extremely dangerous in all other
areas, art itself could not exist without images. In fact, I'm involved
in the utterly contadictory task—probably a fool's errand if there ever
was one—of using images to debunk the images we all carry in our heads
and which delineate the very form of our separate identities: who we think
we are. Now this image is in front of you and in looking at it you may share the same delight and beauty I felt in that instant. However, I hope we both know that this photograph is just an image; that is, something that merely attempts to represent something else while not being anything in itself. The problem is that in situations and aspects of life and relationship that truly matter, we habitually fail to make this distinction between the images and ideas that we carry in our heads about events, things, personas and the world at large, and the actual events, things, persons and world. In other words, we mistake the map for the territory, we make up false and silly stories about what is unknowable, which turns out to be most every thing. Then, we look at the storehouse of rancid memories in our heads and take pride in who we think we are and let them determine our behavior and, thus, also rule our relationships. The personal and social chaos in which we live is the result of this tragic confusion. Don't you think it would be wise for me to give up this absurd task of creating and using images to try to convince others of the dangers implicit in letting images brutally reduce, define and project life itself? Isn't it clear now that the knowledge, the beliefs and the desires (the images and ideas) that interminably gather and tranform themselves to give continuous existence to a fraudulent and separate self, are nothing in themselves? Sabes
tu que es lo mas dificil para mi en este oficio de artista plastico? —La
respuesta es que aunque las imagenes solo tienen valor relativo en unas
pocas area de la vida humana y son terriblemente peligrosas en todas las
otras, el arte plastico mismo no podria existir sin ellas. Es pues un
hecho que estoy involucrado en una tarea terriblemente contradictoria;
solo un tonto accede a usar imagenes para intentar con ellas derrocar
a todas aquellas otras imagenes que todos nosotros llevamos encerradas
en nuestras cabezas y que nos sirven para delinear la forma misma de nuestras
respectivas identidades: quienes creemos que somos. No crees que seria bueno para mi el abandonar esta tarea absurda de creear y emplear imagenes para intentar convencer a otros del peligro inherente en dejar que las imagenes brutalmente reduzcan, definan y proyecten la vida. No est ahora claro que los conocimientos, creencias y deseos (las imagines y las ideas) que interminablemente se transforman y anaden a si mismas para otorgarle existencia continua a un yo fraudulentoy separado, no son nada en si mismos? |
| Out of the Blue |
Available in a 18 x 24" acid-free matt backed with foam core (US$200.oo) |
9/2/08 © Unbound Art and Fine Books |