the futility of art

Grandma, do they need artists?

Silence.

The little girl of about 8 years old drawing a girl on a white piece of paper. A girl whose head really is a 3/4 oval, again. Grandma is so tempted to help the girl finish the face and add some more hair. Maybe she didn’t know that girls whose hair begins quite far at the back, or at the top, of their forehead, do really exist and they are also just fine.

That silence never got resolved completely. So helpful to maintain the tension.

In the country where art is something to be done by them, not us, something so unstable and insane, so terrifying and economically completely pointless. A hobby, really. Creativity is a talent, not life’s work.

In that country, it seemed so natural to embark on a course of action responding to a few short questions:

  • Will I be able to support myself financially?
  • Will I be surrounded by intelligent, high-calibre people?
  • Will I be cultured, well-rounded, educated, important to make a difference in some way…

That last point actually brought the girl to her beginnings, and here she is, compiling YULXC, in thoughts together with her friends and colleagues (since it is very hard to do it in a vacuum).cropped-dsc02131.jpg

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