Art Economy

The thing about the art economy is….there’s either too little or too much. You either have a situation where artists are mocked and not taken seriously or a situation where artists are overly celebrated and obsessed over. You either make no money or all of the money. There’s no in between. You can’t be an artist just making an average living, the way you have accountants, doctors, engineers, lawyers, janitors, electricians, plumbers. This is because as an artist who hasn’t ‘made it’, you’re just an artist who’s trying. Since you can’t really do the average things like own a place and pay your bills as an artist who’s ‘trying’, your art is seldom taken seriously. Try telling a person that you’re striving to be an actor. Because the probability of breaking into the small, exclusive market of Hollywood actors is so low, people will be stunned. Some may even act intrigued, but they are likely to be generally uncomfortable with the concept and will resolve to judging. It’s hard to even argue that they are wrong. It is true; chances of breaking into those spaces is much closer to impossible than anything else. Continue reading

Racist Co-Workers

The organization I work for is gigantic and is consequently comprised of a great diversity of workers. When I say ‘great’, I’m not implying that we have a necessarily positive diversity. I just mean to say, yes, there are a lot of different type of people. So, I guess as logic dictates would be true, much like the larger populous, some of these people are completely shitty assholes. They’re stupid, ignorant, and very vocal (a strange trait that frequently accompanies the first two…the U to their Q if you will). Continue reading

Small Talk

I’m trying to become better at conversing with people. I’m quite socially awkward, I prefer to be alone, and much like everybody else, I hate small talk. And just as my luck would have it, small talk for me typically turns into smaller talk rather than better talk. Most of my interaction with unfamiliar humans happens at work. Usually, I run into someone that I don’t know very well but well enough that I’m obliged to say a few sentences. I’m not sure where I picked this up but my conditioned response is to act delighted for being graced with their sudden and unexpected presence. I’m actually surprised at how convincing I am in seeming delighted, even though common sense would dictate that I couldn’t possibly be that delighted at all. Both parties are aware that we share no special connection or have ever engaged in any meaningful conversation before. These people are usually middle-aged women, so I’m certainly not romantically or sexually excited and chances are that they are not either. Continue reading

All About Art

Creativity is a strange thing. Most people consider it rare, unless they are themselves artists. Many people who are not artists have an infatuation with artists or a desire to get in touch with their artistic side. The strange thing about being a creative person is the space in people’s lives that cultivates creativity. Contrary to how many people imagine, creative people are not producing their art in an instagram-esque space. At least, most of the time, it is not how they perceive it. Nor is being a creative person as glamorous as it’s cracked up to be.

Many a times, art begins from a place of despair, loneliness, solitude, struggle and the like and these are not necessarily things that can be found by searching. At least, it is not what people searching for art are looking for. Continue reading

The Worst Commercial

“Anyone can scoop it–but we prefer to slice it.”

Wow. What an incredible sell. Anyone can scoop it but slicing, well, well. That changes the whole ball game. The video begins with an image of this ‘chef’ garnishing a slice of ice cream with mint and fruit. Let’s make one thing very clear: people who buy this knockoff ice cream cake are not garnishing it with mint and fruit, especially not mint. Continue reading

Revolution Reprodruces Itself

My mother says passions change with age.
She swears the way she cared about things
I care about now, was uncanny
and that the revolution in our hearts
inevitably dies with time.
And I believe her.
I will not dispute the damage that capitalism does,
that the hustle for survival steals ideas from
healthy minds.
Responsibilities start to mould goals,
freedom suffers, compromises,
becomes blind.
I will not deny that the pressure of domestication
tames the wildest of us, that it is inclined
to leave the remaining of us
on the outskirts of norms,
or to insanity, sometimes in the arms
of hallucinogens and wine.
I am cognizant my spirits will break,
I know they do every other day.
I lose battles to the dollar for my time.
I see that I might one day be a generic vessel
selling capitalism back to the world,
back to my offspring, telling them that
capitalism will break their spine.
It will only be human of me.
However for now, I will hear in your words
only that revolution reprodruces itself.
For that moment, I will settle in my thoughts,
in this rare moment that I have as mine,
and I will submit
to my smile.

In Lieu of the Hallmark Holiday

Humans desiring love is not unusual–we are social creatures. Even anti-socialness seems to stem from a preoccupation with social interraction. What’s quite stupid is the exessive obsession and focus that is placed on heterosexual, romantic love. I can’t articulate if this is a recent phenomenon, but there seems to be indication that it’s not. We seem to have preserved these shitty conceptions of love throughout time: (heterosexual) romantic love over everything. (With exposure to some recent feminist readings that have enriched my life, I am making a conscious, although most likely poor effort to identify heteronormativity, irrespective of the fact that the direct goal of this piece is not necessarily feminism/gender politics.)

In conversations, people refer to having a partner as definitive of or essential to an individual’s being. Granted, high school is chalk full of foolish ideas and conversations, but it was not uncommon for me to hear girls say to each other as a compliment, “you are such a great girl; pretty and funny. I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend!”, which even at that time, perplexed the shit out of me. Why? Why can you not believe that this person is great and not in a relationship? Why does this person need a significant other to validate their existence? Is it not sufficient that you believe they’re great? Is it something about another individual’s commitment to this person makes them a safer investment for a relationship for others? And here I thought that these ideas were confined to young, school aged people. Silly me. Continue reading