If you’re an artist, this is your gospel. It should be written by hand on vellum, bound in leather, and inscribed with gold lettering. It should have a place on your book shelf next to whatever other scripture you possess; whatever else you hold sacred. It’s THAT true.
Here is my reflection on it.
Flawed is the essential, irreducible human condition.
The one thing we all have in common is that we have all made mistakes. We’re all scarred. We’re all messed up.
Some would say artists are more messed up (on average) than others; and they might be right. Or maybe it’s just that artists have found their flaws and their fears to be as true as their strengths; their mistakes to be the sign posts on their path to wherever it is they’re going. Maybe artists are forced to face their flaws with a regularity and an honesty that others aren’t, and maybe that’s not healthy (though the word “healthy” contains its own tyrannies). Or maybe it is.
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