is / is not / am / am not
If I had to categorise this unruly thing, I’d say it’s poemical, not polemical. It’s not really a blog about art, not in any sort of analytical way. I don’t take a stance; I’m neither critic nor academic. What I am, actually, is an unruly hoyden with a permanent case of chaoshead, a throbbing love-on for the made things of the world, and a hot ‘n’ saucy need to write things down, to write things out (as you’ll know if you’re one of the people I e-mail 972 times a week. [Hi, forbearing friends! Love ya! Smooches!])
Anyway, I have a tendency to want to resist and reject categorisation because I don’t like being limited. I mean, why go there? I don’t wanna say I write a blog about art because a) it’s not true and b) it’s limiting. I write a blog that uses a lot of art and great-looking stuff in an illustrative way, but mostly I don’t write about art. I’m not an art-blogger — not that there’s anything wrong with being that, I’m just not one.
Here’s what I’d say about myself: I’m a celebrationist. I take immense pleasure in the good delectable nutrients art and craft and design offer, and I like to celebrate made things that strike me as interesting and compelling. I am unrigorous and unacademic in this regard. When a song or a poem or a painting or a fishing lure or a kitchen table or an ad campaign or a pair of shoes gives me a happy moment of “Holy! Shit!” and a delicious shiver or two, well, that’s what it’s all about for me.
It’s the animal self response to stuff; I crave and value the visceral, always. I’m not against parsing the sentence or being examinatory or analytical; it’s just not what I want to do here. There are many writers out there much better positioned to do that than me. Personally, I don’t want to make arguments for or against. I just want art to be the fulcrum of my launch towards goosebump and epiphany and joy. I just want to hear the beautiful music and feel the beautiful heartpound.