Thursday, May 05, 2005

As a painter and a boooet I use my Intellect sparsely when I deal with art.

Ive always looked at art through my senses.
As I experience more art, my senses get educated( thats a bad word to use here)
and keen. So after some time I started to see that certain works of art dont impress my
senses. I started calling them bad art and the artist who make them bad artist. Some
cunning artists will look at good art of others and pick up some common styles and looks,
and imitate in their work. I call them pretenders. That is the worst you can become.

My art comes from my heart, from my guts and from my tissues. But what ever comes from
the heart, gut or tissue cannot be called art. It should be anointed and filled with the blood of truth. It should have the backbone of my life experiences as well as the experience accumulated by my senses which are processed and refined by the Intellect. Yes 'the intellect'. He is the
good friend of mine who helps me out to make good art.

some poeple have said that my art is ugly. These poeple will look at a gnarled tree trunk and say it is ugly. They will go to southern India and cry 'ugly!' when they see a coffee black, shirtless, sweating farmer. They will call their parents ugly when they are old and crumbled.