trying to write an artist proposal

Right now, if I could have a show at any gallery space I wanted, what would I choose to show? Probably nothing that I have right now.

I am an artist, but I am not a professional.

I am an artist, but I don’t want to make art.

I am an artist, but I am sick of projecting meaning onto junk.

I am an artist, but more than that, I am a believer. Or, at least, I desire to believe.

A dreamer? But a dreamer means nothing.

Take me home!!

That’s all that it is: a search for heaven on earth. Where the hell is it?

In service. I can honestly believe that the secret to happiness is service to others.

Perhaps I am so unsettled because I haven’t stopped searching. No. More than that, I am beginning to believe that I am unsettled because this is not my true home. I desire the Garden of Eden and the way things were meant to be, and so I will never find it. I must come to terms.

I know I am going home in the end so I should just enjoy my time here, right? The end. Stop thinking. I can try that.

But I can’t shake the cursed blessing of being a privileged American. How dare I “just enjoy my time.” It’s checks and balances: wealth and poverty. I am privileged that I may be of use in helping the unprivileged. Or, perhaps I am privileged that I may challenge my fellows: the other numb-suckers with two cars and nowhere to go.

Okay, I’m done. This is turning into a rant.

spiders are friends

Remember those African cave spiders you saw that arrogant man eat on an episode of Fear Factor? They looked hard almost, like they were wearing armor over their whole body. In this dream they were crawling up my bed in 655. They weren’t ‘out to get me’ they were simply coming to tell me something. I was afraid of them at the same time knowing they were my friends. I wonder if they were offended that I was afraid of them...”

There was, again, that strange feeling of complexity in my dream last night. An institution through which to navigate.

A landscape of bricks consisting of puzzle pieces in riddles. In order to finish, I needed to solve the appropriate riddles. They were difficult, philosophical, and pretty much over my head.

Someone actually checked me in to this place. It wasn’t a punishment but it was definitely frightening - as if there were some devastating end to avoid. I wasn’t being chased but there was a sense of urgency. Almost as if I were racing someone or being watched and recorded.

There were characters. I would touch someone or some thing and they would be activated.

I need to go back that I may capture some of the creatures and solve the riddles on this side.