September 9th 2015

An artists statement is an estimation. A massive guess, full of fictional ideals, words that sound smart or pretty, and usually a few rather conflicting concepts, listed one after the other in an attempt to interest someone through the artists way of stringing together a sentence. I have written a jillion artists statements and used about 0.0000000009 percent of them for submissions or advertisements. This is because my estimation from the day I wrote one statement, is never accurate or appealing a day later. And thats pretty ok with me - most of the time. It is NOT ok with me when I begin to read other artists statements, and collect blurbs about other artists. They all sound so sure. So certain of their niche and their motivations. I wish I could be certain! I wish I had one interest I could really hone in on. But my interests FLY. They zoom past migratory patterns of the human species, to how we "surveil" each other, to cutting out any external thought and existing as pure abstract actions made through a purely abstract body, and then they expand on to experiments on audience wanderings through an installational world of impulses and active states of attention (what does that mean!?), finally coming to rest somewhere around the construction of a hexagonal performance space with 100 different entrances so that each audience member can have their own private entrance into into their own private observation booth, so as not to muddy their experience with anyone else's reactions or sounds or presence. But my artists statements usually dont say any of that. Because those are mostly ideas I've never done. And aren't you supposed to write about what you HAVE done? But thats old hat. And art does not come about by listing all the ideas you've already had. Art comes about by embracing the new and developing, the not yet known, the unclear even. Thats the state that I want to exist in, and the state that I wish more arts presenters and organizations would embrace.