Something I wrote first thing after creating this publication while I got high with the last of my smoking essentials on the 20th day of Covid-19 quarantine. I do not know when is this going to end. It took 76 days in China.
I have been consuming and creating more content in this lockdown than ever before in my life. Both the content I consume and create are either gems or trash. No relation to each other.
Phoebe Waller-Bridge. What an inspiration. I make fun of dry witty British humor because the American creators have been gaslighting me to believe so. Phoebe shattered those misbelieves and now I can’t get enough of it. Thank god for Fleabag.
Now, after I have all the fanboying out of my system, I wondered why did I love the series. Al for the right reasons. but then, I started thinking about the bigger picture.
what about Art in general? Why do I consume art which is not preferred by the larger part of the masses? It is not unique to like such content? Am I constantly craving something new in what I consume, and now, maybe life does not have enough to amuse me? What does art reflect off of then?
Now it will create scenarios for you. Film started with documenting. It graduated to something that stopped taking influence from life and started influencing life itself.
But then, this made me realize. I do not want to create just anything. I want to make art. I want to be an artist that makes a piece that people don't just consume and move on, I want to make art that they must experience and remember as if they felt, not what the creator felt, just felt.
We have constant access to content today. We have not gone crazy after being in pandemic quarantines. The content we consumed helped us sail through without actually going insane. But, left us with even lesser sanity.
We have forgotten the art of nothingness. Content didn't help you sail through quarantine, it was you getting through it under intoxication. Because we are addicted to content.
It has made us numb to almost every experience. We now have to create spicier, saltier, uber real films that won't make you happy because you relate, it makes your deepest darkest feelings validation. You feel creeped out of yourself and your feelings. As if someone is watching through you. Bojack Horseman was one such piece of art.
That made me think. Are we bored of art?
Art is just transcending. And I am here for it.
