Apparently confused as to how to open presents, Dee produces her first documented blank stare. ÂŠ Patricia Linke, 1976
he blankest look I'd ever seen crossed paths with me on the day I handed my littlest daughter a ream of cotton candy. After some wideeyed marveling at its delicious fluffiness, the Season of Licking commenced. Her eyes glazed over eventually, and I could tell there was nothing more in the universe at that moment than herself and that blue cotton candy fluff. It's great to be a little kid - you have minor to no worries about looking silly. You don't feel you have to force yourself to do things you do not enjoy just to make others happy. Kids live in the moment. That's a bit what it is like when you are deep into the process of creating art you truly love. Inhibitions tend to fall away as you become one with the piece at that very moment. You understand the work, and understand the world a little more because of it. Art and the act of creating can crash in like a wave, enveloping an artist, taking over, and leaving one dazed. It is the same child-like experience of discovery and total symbiosis with the world that can stupefy an individual with the sheer, overwhelming connection which has just been made. Glazed eyes do not necessarily constitute a void behind them. And while a link can be recognized in the perspective of a child discovering their world with that of the heightened state of an artist, there is also the point where both of those moments peak. The sugar high wears off, and a meltdown occurs, or your muse finds the exit door. You ride it like the proverbial wave it is, meet its crest elated, and wash in exhausted. What can keep you going is the knowledge that you'll find the next cotton candy if you look hard enough, perhaps stare.
9 method press
Published on Apr 13, 2011
The debut issue of Method Press. Method press is an independent art-filled quarterly celebrating low-fi thinkers. If you would like order yo...