Isn’t blogging amazing? Well, a blog in and of itself isn’t that cool. Unless some effort goes into the content (boy, do I know content, lemme tell you…), then all you’ve got is a blank digi-canvas. Even if it looks pretty and doesn’t have any substance behind it, then it might as well not exist. Or is that really the case?
Do we pass up our chances at self expression in one form to try and cry out loudly in another form? Have you ever met someone who blogs secretly and does an amazing job at it. Doesn’t even really promote their stuff… just does it to deal with the stress of every day life and whatever afflictions they may be dealing with? I have as much respect for those types of people, bloggers, painters, rappers, poets, whatever, that keep pounding away at the piece of hot steel that is a too-short human existence, often devoid of much deserved attention, in a simple attempt to form something beautiful, as I do for household names of people you and I know as “artists.”
One of my all time favorite movies is “Basquiat.” It’s about a painter, Jean Michel Basquiat, from the late 70’s and 80’s who got his rep from graffiti originally and as he was discovered on the New York art scene, became the second coming of Christ, or Picasso for that matter. His style, coined as “primal expressionism” by some, spoke to me. On some level, when I write poetry (the stuff I don’t share on here), I can see why and how he expressed his ideas the way he did. Seeing his work gives you the impression that he’d use mud, pigs blood and excrement to paint his murals if the mood struck him. He was a tortured artist in the true sense of the definition. Completely trapped in his mind, but also in the society that he couldn’t cope with for most of his life, until he was anointed as the one to carry as a artistic deity.
Basquiat died in his 20’s from a heroin overdose. He made some truly powerful and important friends and advocates along the way, including Andy Warhol and Julian Schnabel. I’d recommend this movie to just about anyone. It’s not really a “feel good” flick, but it’s beautiful in its sadness. A small example of this beauty is the story he tells at the end of the movie about The Little Prince. He burned out hard and fast and left a lasting impression on anyone who knew and might come to know his work.
The last blog post I wrote was about leaving a distinct mark on your work environment. That’s pretty feasible no matter who you are. But leaving a mark on your culture or society? That’s not so common, is it? Sometimes you must simply throw yourself up against the walls built around you (even if you built them) hard, repeatedly, until it hurts, makes you numb and leaves people thinking that you’re dumb for trying to prove something.
That’s what inspires me. The act defiance against constructs that pre-date your own life, without any tools but the god or nature given talents and ideas that you’ve acknowledged and cultivated over many years.
Take what you will about this story. I’d love to hear your interpretations of it.
Hey Benny, my mom told me this story – or was it a dream?
There was this little Prince, with a magic crown and this evil warlock kidnapped him, locked him in this cell in a huge tower and took away his voice. There was a window with bars and the prince kept smashing his head against the bars hoping that someone would hear the sound and find him.
The crown made the most beautiful sound that anyone had ever heard. You could hear it ringing for miles. It was so beautiful that people wanted to grab the air.
They never found the prince. He never got out of the room, but the sound he made filled everything up with beauty.