It’s not an artist’s job to understand humanity. Not to like it.
We are here to portray it.
I don’t want to be transcended and understand everything. It’s just…do you ever want to be ignorant? Not stupid, but so blissful that everything melts away for a lifetime, a day, an hour, a few minutes?
The feeling of knowing is overpowering. I can’t smile and move on. I look into the eyes of a stranger on the street and suddenly it feels like the entire illusion of time is stopping and I’m thinking, “He’s human. I’m human. We’re both mortal, is there some point to these seemingly meaningless lives of ours?”
My art derives from a sick existential standpoint. I don’t want it to.
But I know it must.