Manifesto of the Tired
The world is painful and non-forgiving. In nature and in politics, the world is destructive to all its inhabitants.
The world that so persistently benefits from the suffering and decay of marginalized people will smile at you and offer you a free coffee for the inconvenience.
Really, it’s on the house.
I know little about economics and politics and yet I have all the knowledge in the world to know that I cannot survive this war.
It is not radical to believe that every human being who indulges in the O2 offered to us by nature should also have clean water in their homes.
It is not radical to believe that all humans should have homes.
In our predatory capitalistic simulation the world does not want you to remember that radical means empathy
It is the job of the artist to remind the public that radical means empathy
It is the job of the artist to create beautiful imagery that creates pockets of rest in the midst of perpetual turmoil
And at the same time—I don’t subscribe to the idea that art is inherently meant to do one thing.
Art does not solely exist to make sense. It can be as illogical as it wants to be.
Everything is art. The way we walk is art. The way we breathe is art. The way we roll our eyes at the thought of getting up in the morning is art because it can only be done by you.
The job of the artist is to recognize that art exists within us even when it is not contributing to capitalism.
The job of the artist is to inform the public that, actually, I will get to that project when I get to it, and I will still be an artist in between now and then.
The ability to function under capitalism is not what makes someone a good artist.
I do not want to be a product of mass production, yet I am.
I do not want to be seen as a vessel for money and fame, and yet I am.
Death doesn’t pay the bills and I’ve got student loans.
I don’t want my success as an artist to be measured by how many views my pieces get, because if it’s less than 1000, does it even really exist?
If you create art, and no one sees it, is it still art?
If you speak and no one is around to hear it, did you make a sound?
Yes. And No. And Maybe too.
I am a successful artist because I put everything I have into what I do.
I am not a successful artist because you will not find my name on a list of most notables.
I am a successful artist because I understand my privilege to be here, right now, talking to myself on a zoom recording for a $120,000 institution.
I am not a successful artist because I attend that institution.
It is the job of the artist to not burn out.
It is the job of the artist to not overthink the comment about your out of focus shots because, lets be real, they need a little work.
It is the job of the artist to look at a $120,000 institution and say that I am allowed to breathe during a global pandemic despite your idea of returning to normalcy through consistent work and no breaks.
It is the job of the artist to probably edit that out.
