Fall in love with an artist because artists don’t know how to love softly or half-heartedly. They love like there’s no tomorrow. They give their all. They don’t hold back.
And in that, I am free.
You keep asking if the work was good enough. Did it serve its aim? Did it even have an aim?
I’m sorry — you thought my art was about you?
Marry an artist because their portraits of you will illustrate every part of your soul, not only your physical appearance, but how they see you and the inner depths of your personality.
It’s an incremental, iterative journey. You don’t magically arrive. Ever. You just strive to get closer.
We are not your “entertain me and just shut up if it’s not poetry or art or inspirational” machines.
You love class because it’s an outlet to being the douchey artist you sometimes want to be. You enjoy the pretentious discussion you have because, like all artists, you have a little pretentious asshole inside of you that can only be set free around other secretly pretentious assholes like yourself.
What does this mean for the average electronic fan? Big things. Now, through Monstercat you can easily browse the channels, hear new music, find sounds you identify with, and explore—all within the same label.
10,000 hours for what? Only to be drowned by excessive conversation time and time again? Only to feel less relevant than the twice-told joke three tables down? Only to be constantly dealt with as an outsider in “the band?” Only to be found indispensable at the highest branches of power? Only to find the art failing to connect with people?