Prologue: Afterthought, Ergo Fluxus
If you blur the line
between Art and Reality, do you need therapy?
If you make such a big deal about the distinction, are you nuts?
I like my drama off stage, masking reality, passing for art, maybe
Witness the human condition:
lover, the dreamer and the beast, all dancing together as one. They do not
normally see one another as partners, though they feel the tug of one on the
other. The chancy movement and direction is a mystery in the laughing matter zone.
I’m not afraid to acknowledge that this is my own
condition, a poetically profound condition prone to mumbling and Tourettes-like
outburst, laughable, obscure and not your average outlook on the human
condition. It’s personal. With my muse, dreaming away, and my inner beast
gnawing and lashing out, I, the lover of my life, proceed in the dance that most
people are unaware they are dancing (their unseen partners laughing amongst
themselves in a very private joke). I openly collaborate with my invisible
partners and recognize each for my success or failure. It is not a waltz, nor do
we move gracefully, but rather, we tango, not ballroom style, but awkwardly in a
learning process. We will never stop learning.
A Tango for Three ...
metaphor alluding to the human condition which only a few disciplines are bold
enough to confront: doctors, philosophers, therapists, poets, artists and the
various inmates of the
Laughing Matter Institute of Barbed Wire Existence.
An afterthought often becomes a prologue, that is, WHAT I
MEANT TO SAY before I got so caught up in the writing, creating and destroying
myself on paper, or in this case, live on the Internet, in public, involving
everyone in the process, friends, Richmonders, demons and all, well …
…everyone got lost, as well you should. You are too polite
to participate. This ordeal is like trying to put a public dream and a private
nightmare together in the same art form. They cannot merge with any semblance of
rhyme or reason – although ART is what must prevail, and for that to happen,
there must be destruction – the flipside of creation.
If this process is therapeutic for the artist, it is a
fortunate accident, a happy discovery, therapy cannot replace art. Therapy can
advance to become one’s art, but art and therapy are not co-equal processes
and do not share their values.
Discovery (therapeutic self-discovery) is common to both
disciplines, but therapy does not encourage the destruction of its artifacts,
its evidence of discovery.
Therapy and art are two ways of promoting change, yet we
should not destroy our inner partners in order to develop our sanity. We must be
friends. Art, on the other hand might require many erasures before the drawing
is complete. Fluxus, therefore, celebrates the birth of art through the equally
valuable process of destruction and change. It is only one side of the mystery
of creation and cannot support or sustain its own runaway urges any better than
runaway creation can defend its undisturbed, unconstrained output. The two
raving forces must give rise to a third with a human sensorium, balance, scale
or proportion, both exuberant and profound, otherwise the outcome, the end
product is only therapy, unable to tango.
Director of the Laughing Matter
Institute of Barbed Wire Existence.