Today, I had one of those moments that are, in fact, precious: I looked at the work of an artist and said I saw something and even after they told me what was actually there, I still saw what I saw.
The thing is that the work of art is whatever the history says it is. The artist has very little to say. Maybe they have more to say now, with all the social media and ways to express yourself on all mediums, but whatever you make will still remain in history (if you are lucky to get there) as whatever everyone else (or the majority) saw. Frustrating, I’m sure, but it is something I am trying to embrace.
I just had so many moments this year (not to mention in my entire life…mostly ’cause I do not remember much of the rest of my life) when I was clearly leaving in a different reality then the person I was interacting with, that I think I can handle “misinterpretation” of my work. Actually, I think all the different opinions on it makes it richer.
Also, I seem to prefer people that are from a different reality then mine. It’s not that I am not in the right reality, it is just that I am always looking for new, different and more.
This all started from a brooch in the shape of a fox:
Happy or (h)angry?