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The Art of the Damned

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  The Art of the Damned The current gallery system functions as a modern dam built right at the headwaters of artistic creation. The headwaters are the raw, bubbling springs high in the mountains—wild, uncontainable, fed by countless small tributaries of individual vision, experimentation, failure, intuition, and obsession. This is where most serious art actually begins: in studios, bedrooms, sketchbooks, late-night arguments, personal crises, and private obsessions, long before any curator or collector ever hears a name. Once a handful of major galleries, institutions, auction houses, and their allied gatekeepers (collectors, critics, fair directors, residency programs) gain decisive influence over those headwaters—deciding which artists get early solo shows, which receive press, which enter the "right" conversations, which are anointed with blue-chip representation—they effectively place the dam. From that point forward: The flow of visibility, legitimacy, money, and audien...
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Celeste Suffocating Dog

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And then when you turn towards me
My inner light started to burn into hate
As I fled backwards
Trying to distance further away from your inquisition

Getting by and trying to acquire enlightenment
Failing to decide
Cowering
Cringing hand in hand with the holy ghost

How did my memories mutate?
The ones that are no longer vivid
A complete loss of singular intent
All reconstituted into a collected consciousness

In complete loss of what was done
Confused within swarms of failure
Within this collection of innate action
Powerful feelings that are too chaotic to describe

Now reconfigured as a residue of magnificence
That you cannot see
Or understand
Or remember

I just wanted to be better than you






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