Detachment is a necessity for an artist. An artist needs to swim out to sea, look back, realise what it was that drove him or her into the sea, shout about it and drown, sooner or later. Because an artist can never swim back and become a member of the flock again. Once you have looked upon the shore with the crowded populace elbowing each other for a glimpse out to sea, dry land does not look as appealing anymore. A few years ago I became a writer. I noticed that I had been distancing myself from almost everything everyone else held to be important. I began to observe from a distance the world around me. What I saw both appalled and fascinated me and I had to write about it. It was not a conscious decision. As a matter of fact I had been a writer all my life. I had been that child staring out of the window observing life outside rather than the black board. I had been that frustrated I.T. specialist that failed to see the importance of things that seemed to excite everyone else but ultimately did not matter. All the while the artist grew within me, begging to be let out. All the while the realisation dawned that society and I saw things differently and that I had to express my bottled up frustration about it or burst. And therein lies the main function of the artist. Therein lies that which defines an artist and has done so since the dawn of mankind. It is not the romantic picture of someone sacrificing life to art. It is not the distinction between rags or riches. It is independent from era, independent from medium. What truly defines an artist is the ability to observe society, instinctively dissent from the common view and feel the unstoppable need to shout that dissent from the rooftops.
Twitartmagazine 2011 • 29