For a time I wanted to be art, I thought this took some special effort, I thought I had to escape myself in order to become art but I am starting to think I can not become art because I can not help but be myself and as such I can not help but be art and live in art.
I have decided to build a house, or to be more precise a shack. This shack will be built of and filled with art. I will place inside all that makes me who and what I am, from the comics, books and movies that I love to the cigarettes I smoke and clothes I wear to the random bric-a-brac and bobbles that inspire my ascetics but most importantly I will place myself into this space and will be as much a part of this piece as the art that makes up the walls.
You may be saying dear reader that this task is an impossible undertaking and as I look across my scattering of components I may be tempted to agree with you as I have a third of a walls worth currently, I do not have funding nor do I have a space to construct the final piece but mark my words I will accomplish this goal no matter what it takes.
This project could easily seem like an exercise in self-absorption but it is in actuality an exercise in self-emersion and an external projection of the internal in the only honest way I can conceive of.
In the next day or two I will post some preliminary sketches of my plans for the shack.
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