This, i created for a contest, one i very irrationally never was able to actually enter, even though, well, that's another story for a moment when you want to be depressed. Anyway, the contest was just to visualize your imagination.
So, i give you, The Back Seat Driver. I really wanted to highlight the way i felt about my imagination at the time. And I'm posting it to discuses how this has changed. I think all beginning artists, of any kind, feel a little like their just being drug along for the ride. Like they are powerless and, in straight honesty, a little freaked out. That's what i wanted to show here. This wild, perhaps slightly manic, force, completely strange and foreign, just bursting out of that poor guy's head. He's just holding onto that table for dear life.
But it can't stay that way. I think for some it does, hence the tortured rock stars and poets and painters. Literally wasted by their own genius. The vehicle. I think that also explains why a lot of what they have to say has the spark of something great, but is also garbled by this sort of crazy babel, often purely emotional. No wonder their so unhappy.
People aren't tools. Talents aren't our masters. They're like the mess i depicted, awe inspiring stallions, full of raw power and out of control. We have to tame them. I think genius is genius and it will be captivating in any form, but the stallion tamed is the one who'll win the race.
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