ladyparts

Diegesis

I think it is infi­nitely impor­tant to know why we cre­ate. I “strug­gled” (to coin evan­gel­i­cal Chris­t­ian jar­gon) for some time on the ethics of show­ing my art to peo­ple in terms of moti­va­tion and pur­pose. I have been able to find enough peace to cope (being in school and hav­ing to show my work) with the idea that we, humans, com­mu­ni­cate to sur­vive. My com­mu­ni­ca­tion usu­ally comes in the form of long peri­ods of silence which result in these explosions/revelations that I spew at the kind peo­ple around me who will lis­ten. I get this sense of urgency and, given the right audi­ence, I hand out the jew­els of my soul. I think it all comes down to the appeal of secrets, whose appeal is found in the rev­e­la­tion and the choice of that rev­e­la­tion. So even if it is uneth­i­cal or dis­ap­point­ing to share, it seems inevitable.

That said, I think Gor­don Winiemko is onto some­thing here in an arti­cle titled Let me Tell you some­thing: Why I like Movies Bet­ter than Art:

Die­ge­sis on the other hand, is the com­mu­nica­tive process of telling some­thing. And, while to show some­thing might imply com­mu­ni­ca­tion – that is, the need to have some­one to show some­thing to, and thereby com­plete the process – doesn’t show­ing smack of nar­cis­sism? Nar­cis­sus didn’t fall in love with a story about him­self, he fell in love with his reflection.

Maybe the dis­ap­point­ment is in the show­ing, some­thing is lost in the reflec­tion. I think this is why the new forms of art in this starv­ing gen­er­a­tion are attempt­ing, with every effort of tech­nol­ogy, to make art increas­ingly more present. The hunger for com­mu­ni­ca­tion and con­nec­tion is mak­ing sweet art (ways to push soci­ety for­ward) with inter­ac­tion or per­for­mance, sound, any­thing live. I love it.

I think the most beau­ti­ful act of the human self is the act of try­ing. It is not in the result, because the result is never what you want it to be and by the time you reach the result it is over. It is past. But the try­ing, man, that is the pulse. It’s all we’ve got.

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