The Year Of 11

The year started with a deep loss and felt like a morbid continuation of the year of 10. It has been several months now since I have had to bury any friends and I hope it will stay that way for at least a few years more.

Time isn’t on our side and making every day count isn’t always that easy. I certainly haven’t achieved anything like I had planned for this year. Between dealing with loss, depression and a general lack of support. The year has felt lonely and creativity has been hindered by constant interruptions and a noisy environment. As weeks rolled in to months I felt an ever growing frustration and lack of purpose. Still I have soldiered on and even though I have not completed what I set to do this year, I have at least gotten the most of it in place.

For me, the role of the artist is to take dysfunction and turn it in to an advantage. If there is no way out then create one.

Technicians look at what is possible and apply their knowledge.

The artist makes the impossible happen.

The harder life gets, the more inventive you have to be. Pondering a problem doesn’t make it go away though it is part of the observation process. This year I have seen many changes and not many of them have been good. A lot of talk without action, a lot of acts no one took the time to think through and a lot of people having parties to celebrate murder.

A world run by technicians and followed by the fashion conscious.

Tools and toys have replaced constructive thought making many consider themselves artists rather than acknowledge that they are a statistic on a bill of sales. It has been a sad empty year built with apathy which makes me ask myself this question: What are you going to do about it?


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