Art-is-t; It is never perfect, it’s just done

Sam Frybyte
Aug 8, 2017 · 3 min read

Unseen, the audience doesn’t see him, doesn’t see the cost, the life destroyed, the pain, the magnitude of the commitment. They see a performance, doing what he loves, following his passion ~ what does that mean?

There are friends who glimpse the effort but the effort/the work does not make sense as it ‘doesn’t pay’, or not well, so how can it be work, the hour hours days not enough of many things a compulsion when he hears of articles “How to motivate” it’s incomprehensible. Motivation is never a problem (footnote 1), even beginning to practise (that’s the work, but it comes at the end, the evidence of the work that is potentially seen) is less of hard than knowing once begun only blood stops it. And blood does flow. There is plenty of blood, plenty of pain.

That’s not what they know of either.

It’s the prep, the words written, the flailing around for a story, a lyric, a ryme, the notes heard or found, written then checked, listened to, corrected, set aside. Later, once dimly membered, tried again spoken or sung or played and if ok corrected again.

It is never perfect, it’s just done.

Could be performed and found wanting, so boxed, looked at later — 5 years, 10 or more and finally a better word or (usually) a word deleted. Then the real practise begins and how to deliver the message the tone the stroke of the bow the gesture, a finger in or out of tune (yes a purposeful definition) a slide and it’s never stable.

One time feels best next day is different hard to judge what each day each stage the lights action will bring. But what it brings is a curtain around what has gone before.

It is never perfect, it’s just done.

That’s the part that’s hard to understand, it’s time for the call, walk up or place the paper in an envelope. Wait for the moment the word and for 3 minutes deliver what has taken years to produce and then another until the audience sated applauds or leaves or just turns talking and drinking. Attention turned away/off you/he stands empty.

They say exhaustion is just an excuse for the drug or sex or suicide. Not an excuse, something needs to be erased. Too often recharging is a matter of erasing what came before to make room for what is to be.

What is to be (for many) is always more, the past runs the future illusive there is always more. Waking often to something done again, done before but different, perhaps not different enough, can it be made different?, if not is that ok?, if not ~ discard or delay or back in the box.

A future archivist, if there be such a person for that particular artist.art.work. finds the box and itching fingers explores and tries to explain why any of this effort matters.

Another thing “they” don’t see; the blind alleys/dead ends the work that may take weeks and must be thrown away, futile lifeless, the temptation to resuscitate, to try to breathe life into an inert mess.

A different emptiness ~ a recognition of frailty.

It is never perfect, it’s just done.

1 Motivation is the problem but not the one you think — being captive to motivation is to be a prisoner, envied and driven in ways uncommon to the many. To the cursed someone seeking to be motivated is alien.

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wonders, alot, grew up in the woods writes music mostly

We believe in dreaming big and smashing our goals.

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