It's come to my attention that I am very hung-up on definitions, genres, and titles for things. My friends and colleagues are trying to instill in me the idea that my reliance on such things is harming me more than hurting me.
Allow me to give an example. A while back, I found the "Club Foot" video by Kasabian, and fell in love with the "style" and motifs of the video. The graffiti, the illegal radio, the Eastern European setting, all done in grainy black-and-white. It reminded me of Half Life 2, where there seemed to be a sort of "revolutionary" theme in the level design and art style. I couldn't help but wonder if these ideas, these common motifs and stylistic choices, had a particular name, like how Romanticism and Impressionism are labels for certain decisions made by an artist when creating work.
However, when I tried to bring this up with a good friend of mine, they told me that my hunt for a definition, a genre or style of art, was only hindering me. They reminded me that if I stayed stuck to styles and genres, I would never break free of them, never find my own paths and make my own decisions in art. I wouldn't create anything original, and it would only be a hindrance to me.
I suppose I understood, but at the same time this meant that I could not find more works like Half Life 2 or the Club Foot video unless by chance, because I don't know what I'm looking for. "Graffiti" doesn't quite say it, "Eastern European Art" isn't right, and the term "revolutionary" is far too broad.
However, this brought up an even greater problem. I have been a fan of definitions since I was very young; I suppose this stems somewhat from a prodigal childhood in the mathematical realm. The scientific ideas that things could be defined, and therefore made tangible and real, have stuck with me long after I have decided to venture down the path of art. I suppose sometimes the reason why I chose to become an artist was because everything else bored me to death, and this is more of a challenge. Now I am faced with one of the many trials I knew I'd face, and it is a harder hurtle than I expected.
I would very much like to break free of my "definitive" mindset. I feel like there is some impassable wall between me and a vast realm of thought, and I continue to pound against it unknowing of the tools that could easily bring it down.
These ideas of definitions have even invaded everyday life for me. When I think of a "great artist" I think of someone who has become successful in their field, sometimes long after death, and who's works inspired others around the world. When I think of a "young artist", I think of how they probably look, what they listen to, what they wear. All these things I can picture in my head, and that's a problem; I'm stereotyping. I can't stand stereotypes, and here I am falling prey to them. What am I to do?
I have noticed that many of my more skilled colleagues, people who go to MCAD right now, have common traits. Some of them don't much of a life outside of their art. Many of them are troubled, with dark pasts and/or emotional or mental issues. A lot of them have fought tooth and nail from a very young age to reach their current position. And all the while, I stare at them in awe and admiration; the things they do, the way they speak, the clothes they wear, how they act, and I want to emulate them. Yet this, it seems, is the wrong thing to do, because to emulate them is to move farther from who I really am - but who am I? I've been emulating my idols from such a young age that I don't know what my actual persona is. I am a walking contradiction, trying to be unique for the wrong reasons, trying to look like somebody else.
This wasn't a problem before my senior year of high school. I had enough confidence in myself back then not to care what people thought of me or how I dressed or how I acted. It was only after the fairytale of a romance that I had been nursing in my mind went sour on me that I began to dress differently and act like a desirable person. Yet another romance has gone sour on me since, and I once again find myself attempting to play a role I'm not comfortable with in the hopes of being noticed.
Ah, there it is: being noticed. I have very little shame; I'm shy around certain people I admire now, but I didn't used to be because I didn't care if people hated me. All my life, I have loved to be the center of attention, the lead role in any given situation. I love acknowledgement and compliments, and have only recently been able to handle criticisms, and still get peeved when my friends make fun of me. This is probably due to a spoiled childhood, where I very often got what I wanted; sometimes by hard work, most of the time by finding easy ways out. Impatience, arrogance, and general assholery are trademarks of my personality, and I rather despise these character traits. "Love thy enemy, for they will show you your weaknesses." Very true words.
I wonder sometimes if someone who is so used to instant-gratification, who hates to spend more than a few minutes in one place at any given time, always on the move and wanting change, could be very good at a profession that required long hours of hard work and toil, usually while sitting in the same position for long periods of time. I wonder if a person who is generally happy with his life, who has things pretty well off with no major troubles in his past, brooding dark secrets, or horrible mental or emotional weaknesses besides loneliness could be a good artist. Of 'course, "good" is a relative term, but there's nothing worse than a piece of work that is reaching but isn't quite getting there, and I believe that is what just about all my art up to this point has been - whether due to lack of technical skill or creative thought is up to the masses.
I only know two solid things about myself: that I am a selfish and childish being who loves the limelight, and that the only God-given talent I have is the ability to learn things very quickly if I put my mind to them.
And behold, I am once again defining and labeling things.
Bloody hell.
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