I’ve come to realize the exaggerated importance put on approaching an artwork with a critical gaze rather than an emotional one. It feels like there isn’t a place for missteps or bad experimentation, like it’s not acceptable to simply say, “I love doing this and I don’t know why.” One has to use theoretical lingo and misguided concepts to make their work appear ‘significant’. It’s like looking into your fridge and deciding what to make for dinner. But before making anything, you must stare into the fridge, reflecting upon the philosophy behind cheese and ham . . . to consider the precise mechanics behind the formula for the perfect sandwich. And I didn’t go into this field expecting that. I just wanted to eat that sandwich. I just wanted to make art, which needs no explanation. I just wanted to do what I’ve always loved doing. Explanations make things confusing, particularly when it’s a false explanation. There is really no need to relate every single doodle or sketch to a concept. Some things are concept less. Most concepts develop as the work does.
Hence this stupid rut I am stuck in. The more classes I’ve been to, the less pleasurable making artwork has become. I’ve begun to fear it, becoming overly concerned with what other people think and taking fewer risks due to matters of taste. Ultimately, the more I’ve learnt the more scared I’ve become. It’s kind of like loosing your innocence as a child. If we had the imaginations of our childhood then we would surely be creating greater art. Art should be free to be whatever it wants to be, and not be analyzed, articulated and deconstructed. We need to regain this innocence, a sense of freedom, so that artists may express their most honest emotions without giving in to commercial ideals and social norms. How? No idea.