[ 3 min read ]
Diary of an artist, Thursday, July 11, 2019
Woke up 4:00 am
I am well aware that people might not like the fact that someone writes about their parents. Especially the way I write about them. Revealing their attitudes, thinking or behavioural patterns, beliefs, limitations, insecurities. Revealing their human nature. Exposing them.
In my culture (and I think in most cultures) people would think it inappropriate. But in most cultures most people would view rejecting parental guidance and parents’ life philosophy (which, in most cases, they desperately want to pass down to their children) equally unthinkable. Inappropriate. Immoral even.
So should I worry?
Should I worry that most people in my culture would shake their heads in disbelief and conclude that I’m some kind of a sick human being or a scoundrel? Should I worry that people who almost never think for themselves, who constantly mimic others, who take most things they’ve been taught for granted, who have huge insecurities, will judge me a certain way? And should I stop writing (creating, making my art) because of that? That’s simply not something I will do, ever.
I try not to judge people, although it’s so freaking hard in this culture. Besides, I think we’re hardwired to judge, compare, conclude, gossip. That’s what we as human beings do. If we’re not hardwired to do these things then why most of us do them?
I think now I judge and compare less than I used to just a couple years back. And I mean in general — I don’t mean just my parents and other members of my family.
The fact is that in many cultures talking about your parents and family when you’re a grownup is taboo. I mean you can talk about them when you’re telling the history of your clan or when you (and that’s acceptable anywhere anytime) sing their praises, or when you mention how they contributed to your great conventional success. Or when you’re a known writer or a known artist, or some current, newly discovered superstar writer or artist — that’s when it’s not taboo (even if you’ll break some rules).
These are the rules and if you don’t play by those rules people will point their fingers at you or feel disgusted when they think about you. Some will immediately unsubscribe from your e-mail list or unfollow you. One instance of breaking some rule they’ve been taught to obey is usually enough. They know what or who they’re dealing with. And that’s not because they pondered it — it’s an impulse. They just know it’s not right because they’d been raised in that culture. That’s not how people in this culture are supposed to behave.
So to all those who believe one should not do what I do in these diary entries and my other content I say this. I’m an artist and this is an art project. Maybe one day, when, by some huge cosmic accident, I will become one of world’s best known and revered artists, people will look at my writing and revere it, instead of judging and dismissing it as a piece of shit by some sick person.
There is a fine line between these two (a masterpiece and a piece of shit by some sick person). Once you become a known and revered artist something which otherwise would be a piece of shit by some sick person becomes a piece of art (sometimes even a masterpiece).
Music for this writing session: Max Richter (on spotify)