Archive for security

Bar Bar Broke

Posted in Artists, Social Science with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 12 August, 2009 by endlessslug

One of the worst things you can do when you’re a very, very broke artist, is agree to go to a casino.  Even if the buffet is free, even if you get a handful of cash to start your day off, even if it’s a special day for the one whom asked you – do not go.  Now, I’m bad luck to begin with so it was to nobody’s surprise that I would fail so badly, but there was a much larger price: creative energy.  Casinos, like strip-clubs, drain just about all sense of creativity and life from the artist, especially when the artist loses.  Casinos are not a place of life, they are anti-life.  This is not to suggest the obvious polar opposite of “death”.  Anti-life is not a state, it is a resisting force.  Once, a literature professor told me that all art is hope.  I disagreed.  I suggested that all art has an aspect of security within it, which is often interpreted as hope.  Casino’s and strip clubs were my examples.  Hope drips from every crevasse in both establishments, but it is a hope divorced from security – in fact, security is completely non-existent, except maybe in that one can always come back again.  Of course, I cannot make some sort of reverse proof where hope or security is art, these states exist mutually exclusively from the aesthetic communication which is art.   But we have a stagnation in aesthetic development while one wastes away at these places.  There is little beautiful in these places, merely immediate gratification of sort in which the business specializes in.

This is not a plea to boycott these establishments.  This is a warning to artists, writers, poets, dancers, puppetteers, and so on, to think twice about these places.  The casino today just extinguished any sense of creativity I was slowing building over time.  I’m not even sure when I’ll get back into the studio again.  There was so much anti-life, so little socialization, so much greed, so much hurt (watching others watch others win) – that no art can come of it.

But I did make $100.