July 11, 2014

July 11, 2014

“Art for art’s sake.” If I had a religion that would be my mantra.  Before I get some sleep at night, I utter that phrase at least five times, to hopefully have a successful night of sleep and peaceful dreams.  When I awaken in the morning, the first thought is “art for art’s sake.” From an early age, I have always loathed art that represents a reality, besides beauty, it should reflect the need to express oneself over anything else.  The thought of art as being used for the betterment of society is simply boring.  

Two things that really upset people about me, is that I will never ever vote again in a presidential election, and two, I think art is the answer to everything. If I had to choose between not having art or not eating, I think I would be OK to starve to death.  I can’t imagine a life without art.  From the profound to the artificial, I need it like a human craving oxygen.  I don’t even look at people as being complicated.  All they are to me are living sculptures, where I can admire their beauty or aesthetic.  The fundamental reason why I like fashion is that it represents the “ideal” than say reality.  Imagination is the real currency in our world, and the paper money and coins that float in the market place are basically vulgar tools utilized by the masses, to somehow give themselves the false impression that somehow they can be equal on this planet.  The only thing that will free us is art and the imagination that go hand-in-hand.  Utopian societies can’t exist, but if one can control their bedroom or studio, then that’s half the battle. 

I’m intrigued by what the author Joris-Karl Huysmans commented regarding naturalism in art and literature.  After writing various works of literature under the naturalist aesthetic he commented, if I may quote him in length:

 “It was the heyday of Naturalism, but this school, which should have rendered the inestimable service of giving us real characters in precisely described settings, had ended up harping on the same old themes and was treading water. It scarcely admitted — in theory at least — any exceptions to the rule; thus it limited itself to depicting common existence, and struggled, under the pretext of being true to life, to create characters who would be as close as possible to the average run of mankind.”

The need to see oneself in literature I think is bogus.  To save time, people should just look at themselves in the mirror.  To search out the ideal, or the beauty is an important destination for one to do in their lives.  I’m only interested in personalities that are exceptional, and if they’re witty, better yet!   If “art” is my religion, then Marie Joseph Robert Anatole, Comte de Montesqulou-Fézensac or better known as Robert de Montesquiou is my spiritual angel that serves the purpose of art.  

Every moment where I’m forced to confront a world that is not to my liking, makes me physically ill.  I can vomit for hours just thinking about it, but even my vomit brings a certain pleasure to re-visit my past glories of food and drink that I clearly enjoyed.  To get lost in one’s world of their own making is clearly the formula to cure the ills that are roaming outside one’s door.  It is times like this that I am thankful of doors with locks!  Sadly, there are times when I have to rejoin human society, which for me, is like a non-believer trying to embrace religion.