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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Arts · #1704755
For those of you whom are artists, you writers... This is for you.
I have never really wanted to be anything but you. You could not possibly ever truly know the magnitude of the gift that has been genetically bestowed upon you- I can guarantee you that. You are a member of an unimaginably exclusive and elite sub-species of  humankind that offers membership only by means of genetic selection; neither the discipline of the most devout monk, nor the sacrifice and devotion of a saint, nor the glory and honor of  a United States Marine Corps Infantry Medal of Honor recipient… nor even the sum of all the personal wealth amassed by Bill Gates- all of these things combined will still not be enough to buy membership to your particular society. The concepts of “fairness”, “equality”, “justice”, or things of the like have absolutely no place in the natural order of things… Only the most naive fool could ever believe otherwise. I cannot comprehend what kind of sick, deceptive individual it must have taken to imagine the phrase- then immortalize it- “All Men are created equal.” Are there truly people in this world capable of believing that?

  You who have been selected by nature to have the potential to become Artists share one common trait with one another: you all have an ability to create something that existed previously only within your imagination. And what you create always will have one common denominator with every other creation ever produced by your kind:  the creations of  true artists all bear an unmistakable power to inspire awe in those who are exposed to these creations.

  Now, needless to say [though I shall say it anyway, of course…. as I usually seem to feel compelled to do,  for some strange reason], the degree of awe, along with the level of appreciation, are always going to vary from person to person. There are no two people alive that each have precisely the same ability to perceive, after all. Those among us with the ability to perceive exceedingly fine details, subtlety, nuance; those among us with the greatest ability to perceive the meaning of  a message from what is not written or included… will tend to be captivated by the creations of true artists to a greater degree than those among us who do not have the ability to perceive subtlety quite as well. As for additional characteristics which can be used to define what ‘art’ is, or how it should be officially described for purposes of identifying it…. That I will leave to those more qualified and capable than I; I don’t see the point of wasting time with crap like that. I will provide a few examples.

  These are all art- yet are not always art, and are not nearly all that is art, for a start. And by the way, in case for some reason this entry is posted ‘public’ [as in my dumb ass thinking someone else might have the slightest interest…] please forgive, wherever there may appear to be offense offered among these words. My word of honor (which I still make every effort toward preserving… even though its presence in this futile and increasingly worthless existence hardly seems justifiable) upon the truth that the only intentional offense present here is directed at me, alone. With that, examples of art: music, painting, sculpture, writing, original/ unique technological engineering, original scientific discovery/advancement in any field, performing arts [actors, dramatists, thespians, vocalists, instrumental musicians, and in some cases, truly gifted and original folks specializing in the arts of dishonor: deception, thievery, and bullshitting. And politicians, of course; if they are skilled / truly original. Generally, they master all three of the arts of dishonor.

  There are countless other possible types of art, and some of those listed above are not worthy of the description. I will say for now that if you (or I, at some future point in time) are unable to instinctively perceive without difficulty art from commerce, or artists from the rest of us folks that do not possess the genetic trait which enables original conception and creation; if you do not have a  tendency to discern  the fine details and subtleties that are present within just about every picture that you might lay eyes upon…. Then I envy you, nearly as much as I envy Artists. No- I envy both in equal proportion, for both of you were born with an ability that I myself  have never, nor will ever, be able to know, regardless of my efforts/ desire/ sacrifice toward gaining that knowledge and ability. This is something that I now know, after many years of involvement; trying. I simply lack this ability; the ability every one of you artists probably takes for granted, or worse, squanders, by never applying yourself to its development. Worst of all offenses is the one with the artistic gene that wastes it, choosing some bullshit life instead.

  As for those people who just don’t seem to catch on to the stuff that might be hard to notice at first glance (or maybe just don’t give a shit about it…) but instead ignore those subtle (but sometimes profoundly significant / impacting) details and sum up the glance at that picture by saying, offhandedly “don’t sweat the small shit!”  Well, just take it on faith that you are very fortunate, as well, and someone I will always envy and wish that I could be more like… and fail miserably in attempting it.

  If I were to make a list of all the things that I can do, which the average guy most likely cannot, or wouldn’t make the effort to attempt, it would likely be hard for even myself to believe that I am capable of  so many things. Things which require skill or intellect; things not everyone has the ability to do. If I could make a complete inventory of all there is about me that are things to be thankful for, or proud of, or regard as the abilities and attributes of a person of above average capability, I believe chances are that there are many who would feel that I am a fortunate man, one with much to be thankful for.

    Yet I cannot. All of my life, there was really only one thing that I wanted to be. Only one thing that I knew would bring the sense of worthiness and fulfillment and contentment- accomplishment and stature too- that I, as I type these words, cannot claim to feel in the slightest degree. My life has been one of unending failure and loss and waste. My particular ability to perceive the subtleties, details, ironies, and still understand what is present in the big picture, too… is of a magnitude that is probably extraordinary compared with most folks. Thus, when I look into a mirror, whether the literal kind, or the mirror which only my mind's eye can look into... I always wish I was able to see someone other than the person the mirror reveals.

  I have done things, been places, overcome obstacles, and learned an amount of knowledge and wisdom that most men will not see in their lifetimes; all of it completely on my own and without the guidance or help of anyone... building character as we all do I guess, at the expense of happiness. I am one whose journey through life seems to always require that I go it alone... In this state of solitude I try to make the best use I can of the time, seeking to become something more than what I have always been, maybe even someone worthy enough to travel accompanied before the journey's end... I wouldn't feel it had all been a complete waste if maybe there is at least something worth somebody, somewhere remembering that I had once been here too- and was a man worth knowing, someone unusual.

  I will never succeed. There is only one thing that I have ever tried in my life to do, and never was able to. All my life, I have only wanted to be You, The Artist. 

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