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Love, Happiness and the Death of Art

Lets' be honest with another, shall we? True happiness comes with a steep pricetag.

Do remember 'Fisherman's Blues' by the Waterboys? It was a fantastic album. Do you remember their next record. Bloody boring. Why? Mike Scott fell in love and was happy ever after. Even my fav wunderkind Elvis Costello fell off the creative radar after he met Cait O'Riordan.

Thesis: Love and Happiness (in the Al Green sense) is a risky proposition in terms of creativity and your ability to interest others with your thoughts.

Warning: I am by no means saying that misery makes good art or that great art need be miserable. After all, the full moon is only a reflection of sunshine. My favorites are artists whose works are usually playful and fun; Sandy Calder (thank you Eve), Buddy Holly, Louis Armstrong, Wallace Stevens.

I don't believe that misery turns the creative wheel to profit. Rather, I believe in uncertainty and searching. I believe in NOT knowing. I believe in questions rather than answers. Its no accident that great creative outbursts are created by the very old and the very young. These are two demographic groups facing enormous questions. Most people "find themselves" somewhere in the middle and the it is this searching that often goes missing.

I'm not opposed to stability. I advise it for most. Given a chance, I may grab for it myself one of these days soon. Practically, it is a worthwhile trade-off. My point is to open your eyes to this trade-off. People who are constantly searching are at a risk of misery, exhaustion, suicide and despair. People who are happy are only at risk of boring a bunch of fair-weather friends who, to be honest again, don't really matter all that much in the long run.




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post #189
bio: blaine
perma-link
3/24/2005
13:09

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