The artistic Statement seems to be the new catchphrase for, “write a brief introduction and a few details about your art,” without admitting to being a retired do-little. Simply put, what you create and why you create it. Okay, I am up for this, here goes!
What gives me the right to call myself an artist? What gives any of us the right to define ourselves as artists?
In answer to these questions, I must define the artist as a soul that is willing to take a piece of its own soulful flesh, open it up, and allow everyone to touch and feel, maybe even taste the more interesting fleshy bits.
Before I can present a creation as my art, I have to first feel it and play with it for a time myself. I need to touch the fleshy bits, inhale them, feel the texture, listen to colours, then drench myself with the bareness of it all. I need more than vision, perhaps a country music song, or maybe a Dylanesque folk ballad or an Oscar Wilde poem. My art consists of colour, sound/music, and words; there will be a fleshy bit of each.
As artists, we are all thieves, taking fleshy bits from each other and weaving them amongst our own fleshy bits; I also borrow from other photographers, music makers and poetry writers to give flow to my chosen art, photography. The way I arrange those fleshy bits, stolen ideas, musical sounds, poetic words, and colours on my display shelf is my special talent, this is how I call myself an artist.
I may not know if I like an artpiece until after I have processed all the fleshy bits, but when I am prepared to present my art, it is indeed a piece, woven together by me with hints of the souls of others. I create art for myself; not by myself; I have ghosts assisting me.