I Know Someone Already Did This

Lately, I pick up a pencil and my brain flips over like a sad little fainting goat. No life, no light, no spark. I dread projects; I agonize over them, I mourn my wandered-off creativity, my long-deceased talent, and I wonder why on earth I agree to do this or that creative endeavor in the first place.

And then the compulsion sets in — it’s too easy. The “inspiration” appears on screen after screen in long, endless ribbons, image after image of this genius doodle or that brilliant concept or some stunning font combination. I quickly squirrel them away like dirty little secrets, to pull out later in an effort to “get inspired”, to jumpstart the pilot light I just can’t seem to spark. Instead, I stare at them, hopping from one to another in an effort to catch an idea like some kind of disease.

It’s all just so good. I mean there is bad stuff too, but you forget it the moment you see it. Instead, I have convinced myself that the world is so chock full of stupidly talented artists, designers, and makers that there could not possibly be room for little old me.

I know someone already did this. The Jealous Curator is a fucking genius, and how does she feel now that everyone else is saying, “damn. i wish i thought of that.”?

So instead of wallowing, miserable and alone, I have decided to put up some bits and pieces of my hoarder-esque digital collection, and focus on the content, not the quantity.

I have a great deal of questions, thoughts, and feelings about the forthcoming work, as well as about the life and times, as it were, of art in our era. How the world is anyone going to write an art history book in the age of the internet?