Art

Make art, motherfucker! Make art!

Make art now! Make art here, in the moment! If you have something in you that needs out, let it out, make it art and put it in the world.

Now.

Seriously, get the fuck up from where you’re sitting, get out there and make art as hard as you can, do it today. Today.

Do not make art tomorrow!

I mean, make art tomorrow, obviously. Make art every day. But  make art tomorrow as part of a continual process of art that begins today, don’t put art off until tomorrow, is what I’m basically getting at.

I’m not kidding, people, make art immediately. Paint something, sculpt something, paint a sculpture. Your own sculpture, I mean, painting somebody else’s sculpture probably wouldn’t be cool, especially if you don’t have the original sculptor’s permission to do so, but if you have at some point made a sculpture and think it could use a little color, by all means, go for it!

Make a film, it’s never been easier to do so than at this moment in history. Night of the Living Dead could be remade over the course of a weekend with a cell-phone camera and a Facebook invite, don’t tell me you can’t make a film. If there’s a film in you, get it done!

Do you have personal pain? Channel it into poetry, or prose, or, if you lack personal pain, poetry and prose can just as easily channel joy! Write a short story, write a novella, write and mount a one-act, one-man show about growing up in a small prairie town, apply to the fringe festival, pick up a guitar, deliver an angry tirade peppered with the occasional self-referential joke, I do not care what art you create, just that you create the fuck out of some motherfucking art.

I am not joking. Get up off your computer, get away from the Internet and MAKE ART!

Or stay on the Internet, frankly. There’s an enormous amount of art on the Internet, add to it. Host a podcast, post to YouTube, join Deviantart, maintain a blog. Start an especially well-crafted parody Twitter account pretending to be a major corporation that kind of pisses you off and ruin their public image. I do not care what you do, only that you DO it.

Whatever art is inside you, why the fuck is it still inside you, rather than out in the world? There has never in the history of humankind been a civilization that afforded more opportunities to share creative work with an audience than our civilization affords us right now. You might not find a large audience for what you do. Who gives a shit, it doesn’t matter whether your audience is large or small, only that you give them the opportunity to see what it is that you’re capable. Do you not owe that opportunity to them? Do you not owe it to yourself?

Because life is so short, people, and it can end in death at any moment, like Peter Dinklage in Game of Thrones. But it’s also more wonderful than you could possibly imagine, and it deserves to be celebrated.

Also like Peter Dinklage in Game of Thrones.

But I’m getting off-track, here. My point is: ART, motherfucker! Art!

You are the only you that has ever existed, and the only you that will ever exist, and in one hundred years you will be gone and, most likely, forgotten.

If you have something within you that burns, no matter what it is, you have an obligation to share it with the world, otherwise what’s the point of any of the rest of your life?

If you have something within you that burns, that you need to share, share it. Make art. Make art as hard as you possibly can for as long as you can, and do not stop until you literally cannot art any more.

And if you don’t?

Well in that event, carry on, I guess, with whatever it was you were doing, and I hope it brings you meaning…